


Loki of Nowhere

by theicesculpture



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: (past) psychological manipulation, Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Death, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Loki/Tony Stark, Family Drama, Fantasy, FrostIron - Freeform, Grieving, Infinity Gems, Loki Angst, Loki Redemption, Loki and Tony's misadventures across time and space, Loki-centric, M/M, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Not Thor: Ragnarok (2017) Compliant, PTSD, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Thor: The Dark World, Realm Hopping, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Sci-Fi, Slow Burn, Space Gem (Marvel), Teamwork, Temporary Character Death, Time Gem (Marvel), Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Uneasy Allies, space travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2018-12-18 20:51:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 35
Words: 151,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11882577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theicesculpture/pseuds/theicesculpture
Summary: Loki dies on Svartalfheim. Then he wakes up. It does not take long before Hela seizes the opportunity to offer Loki a deal: end Thanos's life in exchange for his own. Loki knows defeating Thanos will be no easy feat and so a conversation with the Norns becomes part of the bargain.The Norns tell him three things:1. His only path to success lies in utilising the Infinity Stones2. The Infinity Stone contained within the Tesseract – the only stone he will ever wield – will not be enough on its own3. The name of a potential ally who has the highest capacity to both wield another one of the Infinity Stones and collaborate alongside himAnd that name – that name is Tony Stark.***"You're fucking insane!” Stark spat.  “Your plan to defeat Thanos revolves around you somehow figuring out time travel.""Actually," Loki said, "my plan revolves aroundyoufiguring out time travel."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this in the summer of 2016 so it will be canon divergent from the current MCU regarding all the films that came out in between that time and now, although occasional bits of newer canon material might be referenced. Many liberties have also been taken with the incorporation of bits of Norse mythology here and there. 
> 
> Anyway - now the disclaimers are over with, I hope you enjoy reading this.

Loki opened his eyes and there was colour.

He hadn't expected to see colour but then again, he hadn't expected to have been _able_ to open his eyes.

His chest held the evidence of the wound Kurse had inflicted, a hole that had been skewered straight through his sternum – and it had pierced straight through; Loki could recall the sick feeling of the blade breaking the skin on the other side and the sensation of the air on his exposed flesh before the pain had started.

It was a morbid thought to think that if he was to reach into the wound with a finger, he might have been able to poke through to the other side. Loki wondered how much it would hurt.

The wound was numb, he couldn’t feel anything from it – no pain, no discomfort, nothing to indicate that anything was out of the ordinary, nothing except... Where  _was_ he?

This was not Svartalfheim. Svartalfheim did not have grass or trees or a sky so clear it looked like a void filled with nothing but a filter of soft blue light. Was this some meadow on Asgard he did not know of? Perhaps Midgard? Somebody must have moved him while he was not capable of being aware of it. Loki had been so absolutely certain that he had been about to die.  _See you in Hel, monster_ , he had vowed.

_Ah_ , Loki thought _._ So that was it then: he was dead.

Thankfully there was no sign of Kurse but if this was Hel then it was more pleasant than he had been expecting – picturesque even.

Loki was sat on a path that ran between the two forests, a trail in the grass worn down by trampling footsteps rather than a path that was there by design. There was a rustle in the leaves somewhere behind him and when he turned he saw a cobbled road that stretched into the distance. And there, at the end of the road, was what had to be the largest hall Loki had ever laid eyes upon. Its golden walls did not gleam in the same way as the royal halls of Asgard – where Asgard’s walls were built to demonstrate power and might, these walls radiated invitation and warmth.

Perhaps this wasn’t Hel then. Hel’s reputation was not one that was known for its hospitality. And if by some mistake of the gods this was Folkvangr, then where were the warriors that reigned over the field?

Loki eyed the golden building some more. There were no figures entering or leaving, only two large inviting doors at the centre of the hall.

Loki brought himself to his feet. If he was able to discern who the owner of the hall was then he stood a chance of being able to deduce where exactly he was. But he had to remain cautious. He had no desire to be outnumbered or attacked or captured or–

Loki almost laughed. He was dead, that much he knew for certain. So what did it matter? He could not feel pain and the worst that could have happened already had.

After supposing that he had nothing left to lose, Loki walked towards the hall with as much dignity a man with a gaping hole in his chest could.

The doors opened before he could touch them and there, with a smile on her face despite her wet eyes, was Frigga.

Loki didn't know who moved first, himself or his mother, but it did not matter. Their arms were wrapped around each other and Loki could feel her, how solid and whole she was, and how she had rushed to embrace him despite his last words to her.

“Mother…”

"My son." The sound of her voice made Loki squeeze his eyes shut; he had not thought he would hear her speak again. "Oh, Loki…" Frigga sighed. “I had not thought to see you for thousands of years yet.”

“It would seem that I have a talent for disappointing you.”

Frigga moved her arms from his neck to his shoulders, and she gently pushed him back to look him in the eye. “Do not say such things. I am prouder of you than I have ever been, I merely wish that your life had not been cut short. Please do not mistake me wanting you to have lived a full life for not being happy to see you."

"And I am happy to see you," Loki said, "in spite of it all."

"Oh, Loki," Frigga sighed again and wrapped her arms around him for the second time.

"Mother?" Loki asked with hesitancy in his voice once Frigga had lessened her hold.

"Yes?"

"Where are we?"

“I don’t doubt you possess the intelligence to figure it out for yourself, my son. But if you find yourself failing, you may hold your self-regard as responsible for that.”

Loki floundered, not having expected a riddle of sorts.

“Or try thinking about it differently, Loki. Rather than asking in which realm  _your_ soul would rest, try the question of where  _my_ soul would come to rest.”

"Valhalla?” Loki blurted out. He let out a quiet scoff. “ _You_ being in Valhalla I can believe. But myself? That's not possible, I–"

"Listen to me and listen very carefully," Frigga said sternly and Loki obeyed, stilling and closing his mouth. "You died in battle. You died a noble death, sacrificing yourself for another and slaying a terrible monster as you did so."

"Tricks," Loki muttered.

"Tricks or not, the fact remains that you still did it. Whether or not you consider yourself to be a warrior does not matter – you died a warrior’s death. All those souls who have died a warrior’s death are eligible for Valhalla and you, my dear boy, deserve to be here just as much as anybody else."

"Perhaps I might have died in what can be loosely interpreted as a warrior’s death. But Odin selects by hand which souls pass to where–"

"You do not think that your father would grant you eternity in Valhalla?"

"The man you call my father would have granted me a death sentence if he had his way."

Frigga took his hands in hers. "I know he claimed he would. It is my belief that he wished you to feel the weight of your actions with as much impact as possible. He appeared to be under the impression that his way would cause you to wish to redeem yourself in his eyes more so than if he expressed disapproval. Then there was the matter of Asgard’s citizens needing to believe their king would deliver fair sentences to all, regardless of his personal relationship to them. If he did not deliver the death sentence – as would permit an unwarranted invasion and treason – then being more lenient for the sake of his wife is far more sympathetic than for the sake of himself in the eyes of the people.”

“There’s never only one reason for anything he does,” Loki muttered, traces of bitterness seeping into his voice.

“I don’t believe he would have been able to carry out the sentence, although he most likely overestimated his self-control regarding that aspect." She frowned. "Sometimes your father's judgement can be incredibly misguided and the man is too stubborn for his own good. You're both similar in that matter."

"Are we not going to acknowledge the great incongruence between his punishment for my actions and his punishment for Thor's actions?" Loki snapped and dropped her hands. A moment passed and then he lifted his lips apologetically. "I must be a terrible son to only have been so recently reunited with you before baiting you into an argument."

"Nonsense," Frigga said. "Hearing you call me mother has been one of the greatest gifts I have received. But I cannot hold it against you that even while dead it seems we still have unresolved family issues." She smiled sadly. "Although I question your priorities," she teased, "as it was only a few moments past that your former life ended and yet you are equally as fixated on criticising your father’s decisions."

“How odd,” Loki said, “it’s almost as if my death has not altered the decisions he has made.”

Frigga ignored the sarcasm. "You seem remarkably calm about that, my son."

"I thought that I'd die after I fell from the Bifrost and I have thought that I would surely die countless times since. The fear caused by the anticipation of death made dying rather anticlimactic in the end."

Frigga looked him directly in the eye. "And are you satisfied?"

Loki avoided her gaze. "What does it matter?"

"It matters to you, therefore it matters to me. Are you satisfied with how you died?"

Loki paused before answering. "I would have preferred not to have met my end by such a witless beast."

"You know that your half-answers do not escape my notice."

Loki let out a huff of air.

"I do not regret it."

"Then I am glad to hear it. It was an incredibly selfless thing to do – not that you'd admit it. Have I mentioned that I'm proud of you? Your father is too, you know. He has granted you a place in Valhalla, after all."

"Then he must be willing to offer Valhalla to anyone foolish enough to die for his son."

"Might I remind you that Thor is not his only son. And I have sound reason to suspect that even if you did not die for Thor’s sake, your father would not have abandoned your soul.”

Loki shook his head.

"Duty always defeated sentiment to him."

"I need you to know something," Frigga said with urgency. "I need you to know that despite all the people who thought there'd be no redeeming you, that imprisoning someone who can't be reformed would be futile, they were wrong. I knew there was still good in you. I wanted you to have a chance to prove that to everyone who ever doubted it and to yourself. And you did. Only," she said, her voice wavering slightly, "you ended up having to die to prove it." Frigga cupped his face. "Despite you being so intelligent and insightful you can be incredibly dense at times. How could you believe that your blood would not make you family? How could you believe that your actions would remove our love for you? Your father and I may not love some of your actions but never doubt that they could remove our love for you."

Loki temporarily lost the ability to conjure words.

"Speaking of your actions, my dear boy, I think it's past time that we had a long talk about them. Without any interruptions this time. Shall we take a seat?"

Frigga motioned him inside and beckoned him inside the hall, towards one of many hundreds of tables that occupied a room so large he could see where it ended. None of the warriors drinking or feasting appeared to take much notice of them as they took their seats in a secluded corner by a window, and the rumble of their talk and laughter allowed them privacy.

Frigga sat and waited patiently and Loki was powerless to refuse her.

"I..." Loki's voice was dry. "I don't know what you want from me."

"I want you to tell me the whole tale in your own time. I only know fragments of it, bits here and there and extracts from what we discussed in your cell, but my understanding is incomplete. I want to know and understand why you did such terrible things, Loki. I need to know what happened to you."

Loki clenched his hands together tightly.

"There's no rush," she pacified, "we have the whole of eternity. I will try not to interrupt you."

"I… I don't know where to begin."

"May I suggest that you start with why you let go?"

Loki grasped for a drink.

***

Loki talked in sporadic clusters. He spent more time staring at his hands than he did talking and when he did talk, his throat would seize up and he could only choke out a few words at a time; at other times long strings of sentences gushed out of him like a dam broken free. Occasionally he found himself snarling out in anger or fingers tightening around the handles of his mug, but Frigga kept true to her promise. He had barely gotten started – there was still so much left to tell – when, for the briefest of moments, Frigga appeared distracted for the first time since he started speaking and it threw him off course.

"That's odd," Frigga said, frowning at the window behind him. "That doesn't happen here."

Outside, the grasses and flowers had begun to rapidly wither and dry and a greyness was sweeping over the ground like a slow-moving wind. It was only when a figure appeared over the horizon line that Loki was moved from unconcerned to intrigued.

The figure was one of a woman, a woman bearing Loki’s colours and a helmet like deer antlers that cast strange shadows in front of her as she walked closer. She was tall and imposing and held herself as if she had an army at her back rather than standing alone.

Frigga had not been the only warrior to have noticed her presence, and those that recognised the figure turned rigid in their seats. Loki thought it strange to see the fabled warriors forget their weaponry and battle rage and instead act with something unnervingly akin to fear. Just as Loki was pausing to consider the implications of exactly who the figure could possibly be, there was a loud knock at the door.

The sound of laughter and merriment was replaced by a thick silence.  

Nobody answered the door but most of the warriors were on their feet, as if unsure of whether to hide or attack.

There was another knock, followed by the sound of an exasperated voice.

“I do hope that you do not think to fool me into believing the halls of Valhalla are currently vacant,” she said. “If you  _mighty warriors_ need consoling then fine, I shall give you my word that you need not fear.” Her voice rang clearly through the hall despite her being outside. “I am not seeking entrance nor am I attempting to siege you.” She sounded amused at the idea. “I only wish to speak to one of you.”

There was another silence and then one of the Vanir warriors called out, her voice wavering. “Which one?”

“Loki.”

Loki tensed and Frigga lay a hand on his shoulder.

“I’ve been reliably informed that you do  _have_ a Loki among you,” the voice from outside said.

The warriors had not yet noticed him but there were a few Loki recognised. Before Loki could respond or react or begin to even consider what his next course of action should be, Frigga intervened.  

“Do you give your word that he will remain unharmed?” Frigga asked.

“Yes, yes. I will not harm him.”

Some of the warriors appeared to be deducing Loki’s true identity, he could feel their eyes on him.

Loki rose from his chair.

"Loki," Frigga whispered, "I can only attempt a guess at her name, but I think it would be wiser to see what she wants rather than deny her."

“I suppose any peace and merriment Imight have been granted was always bound to be cut short,” Loki muttered.

“Loki,” Frigga scolded quietly as she walked with him towards the door, the warriors clearing a path for them. “You must not be so cynical.”

“Shouldn’t I? It is, after all, only a matter of hours after I have arrived in Valhalla that the person who I can only assume is the Queen of Hel journeys here to specifically ask for me. Forgive me if I do not interpret that as a good omen.”

Frigga remained tight-lipped and opened one of the great doors before they stepped through it.

“You took your time,” the stranger outside said.

“What do you want of my son?” Frigga demanded, closing the door behind her.

The stranger turned her attention to Frigga, her indifferent expression suddenly cold and icy. “I didn’t realise he needed his _mother’s_ –” her mouth curled around the word, “–consent to speak to strangers.”

“I don’t,” Loki said at the same time Frigga made the same assertion.

“Wonderful.” She ignored Frigga entirely. “I must admit, I had expected more of you, Loki.”

Loki was taken aback. “And what exactly  _had_ you expected of me?”

The woman in front of him smiled but there wasn’t anything pleasant about it. “Well, cowering behind your mother’s skirts hardly constitutes as living up to the family name, does it now? But I was always taught not to forget my formalities. I haven’t introduced myself, although I haven’t exactly been subtle…”

“Hela,” Loki said. “Queen of Hel.”

Although how exactly the Queen of Hel had found her way to Valhalla, Loki had no idea.

“Yes,” Hela replied, smirking as if she knew something they didn’t. “That’s it.”

“What do you want of my son?” Frigga asked again but Hela acted as if she had not spoken.

“I suppose you must be curious…” Hela said, making it clear that she was speaking to Loki and Loki alone by angling her body towards him.

“I am,” Loki replied and instinct told him to have patience instead of pushing the topic.

“I want to bring you back,” Hela informed him, as if she was granting him a huge favour.

“Back? Back where?”

“Back to life. But I have a few conditions, of course. I'm a busy woman and I have many things to do so I shall get to the point; I have a proposition for you: your life in exchange for a favour."

Loki frowned. "What could possibly want from me?"

"I don't suppose you've often had the misfortune of a man's unwanted attention?"

"I’m not unfamiliar with the concept," Loki replied and had to work to not intone it as he would a question.

"I’ll be more specific: have you received unwanted attention from a man who goes by the name of Thanos?"

"While so much as being in his peripheral attention is far more unwanted attention than I'd ever care to receive from him, I suppose that I would class–"

"If I knew you would be so pedantic I would have elaborated earlier. Allow me to explain: Thanos has been attempting to woo me for years now. He appears to be under the impression that I lack the company of souls in Hel and thinks that increasing those numbers will impress me or something equally as ridiculous.” She rolled her eyes. “The reality is that with each gift he gives me, I have yet another soul to accommodate for.” She scowled. “I have little patience for a child screaming out for attention. He presumes too much. But if I ignore his intolerable presence for much longer then my domain will soon be filled with more souls than it can handle at such short notice.” Her eyes glittered with malice. “If he presumes to demand my attention then I will deliver it to him in worse ways than he is capable of imagining. I may finally grant his soul entrance into my realm but I will personally ensure that his soul will be screaming for my mercy before long."

Loki chose his next sentence very carefully.

"Whilst the idea of his soul screaming for mercy is incredibly appealing, I'm afraid I'm not entirely sure what it is that you require me alive for."

"You're a good boy," Hela said. "Unfortunately, I cannot touch the living. If I could, then I would have dealt with my little problem entirely independently. This is where you come in; I want you to kill him for me."

"Me?" Loki let out a bark of laughter. "You stand outside a hall full of the legendary fallen warriors of children's tales and yet you called  _my_ name? Forgive me if I question your judgement but why would choose to lay your trust in the words of a lying trickster when the mightiest of honourable fighters are only on the other side of this door?”

“It is not a warrior I need to kill him," she said. "I need someone more than yet.” Then she gave a grin so fully-fledged that her teeth gleamed. “A lying trickster might be  _exactly_ what I need."

Loki blinked at her. "And if I don't manage to kill him?"

"If you break your word after I restore you back to life, I will show your soul no mercy when you die."

Loki frowned. "That sounds too simple – what else is there?"

"Oh, yes," she said as if she had suddenly remembered something. "If you don't do it then your brother will die. Amongst potential billions of others. But he's the only one who you would truly care about."

"Loki," Frigga said, "you should consider this."

"But I've only just got back to you–"

"I can wait. You have a chance at life again. True life. Life in this realm isn't the quite the same. Do not let me be the reason you stay dead, I would hate myself for it. I want you to live."

"Even if it means fighting him?"

Frigga cupped Loki's cheek.

"It is not my decision to make, I can only implore you to–"

"You should listen to your mother," Hela sneered. “She has an uncanny knack for persuasion.” Hela had spoken with such venom that Frigga stared at her in outright confusion.

Loki pressed his lips together.

"If we are to make a bargain I need the full terms," he said finally.

"The terms are this: your life for his. I will heal your wound and restore your life force if you agree. There is no time limit, but the time before you kill him is borrowed, and when you die you'll spend that time in my realm. Think of it as an incentive to not squander time. The instant you finish him is the instant you are no longer in debt to me. Only after he is no longer breathing will your life be your own again."

"What happens if somebody or something else kills him before I do?"

Her lips twitched with amusement. "Fine." She held up her hands. "I shall even add in a futile clause for you. If somebody or something else kills him before you do then you won't owe me a debt but your soul will not reside in Valhalla when you die."

"I do not like that term."

"I must ensure you stay motivated and act quickly  _somehow_. Maybe you shouldn't have forced me to invent what would happen in that scenario. But it hardly matters. I doubt that any person or thing currently alive in the entirety of the universe has the resources to kill Thanos."

"Then how is it that you expect me to?"

"By the having the right resources. I shall even gift you with a favour. No – I'll be generous. Two favours. One clue is the Infinity Stones. You know of the gems he is after, yes? Good. If you can locate the ones he hasn't managed to find yet then it shall put you at a great advantage. My other favour to you will grant you a personal audience with the Norns themselves. I daresay they’ll be more informed than I am.”

Loki's mouth fell open.

"The Norns? How could they possibly have a stake in this?“

"They are moderately concerned about the future of the universe and Thanos's growing potential to kill them."

"But no one has seen the Norns in who knows how many millennia and they do not even reside within the Nine Realms anymore."

"If he does manage to kill them it might impress even me. However, I should warn you not to expect the Norns to give straightforward answers. They do enjoy droning on and on about threads of fate. Excessively." Hela's expression was one of distaste. "But as I said, if you want any more details you’ll have to ask them yourself."

"I will bear that in mind."

When Hela smiled it was neither kind nor cruel; it was victorious.

“Then we have a deal?” she asked.

Loki’s eyes darted between her and his mother. His mother said nothing aloud, but her eyes were encouraging.

“We do,” Loki agreed, holding out a hand.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Hela said with a mockery of sweetness, “do send the Allfather my love if you get the chance.”

Then the Queen of the Dead grasped his hand in hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to [buying_the_space_farm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/buying_the_space_farm/pseuds/buying_the_space_farm) for going over this story for me and [EmuSam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmuSam/pseuds/EmuSam) for betaing the earlier chapters!
> 
> My tumblr can be found [here](http://the-ice-sculpture.tumblr.com/) if anyone's interested.


	2. Chapter 2

The instant Hela let go of Loki’s hand, all of it – Hel, Loki's mother, Valhalla – was gone.

Instead, he was lying on his back and the winds had swept a layer of grit over his body. He sat up with a start, gasping for breath, hand clutching at his chest. There was no hole this time, nor any blood. The flesh was entirely intact and only a scar was left behind as evidence of his injury.

Loki was unsteady as he clambered to his feet.

The winds became stronger and large drops of rain began to fall, as if Svartalfheim itself was spitting on him. He had to keep his eyes squinted to avoid the black sand blowing into them as he scoured the surrounding lands for any sign of shelter. There was little to be found apart from wide open plains and his destination became obvious – back to the path between Svartalfheim and Asgard. There was little he could do while upon this realm, but he knew Asgard better than any other realm. He knew not only its people, its strengths, and its weaknesses, but also how to influence those within it, how to trick those within it, and how to operate within its most powerful circles.

Asgard was no barren moon; it was much better defended than that.

Slowly, as he walked, a plan began to form and take hold.

He would walk into the cave entrance as himself and exit as one of Asgard's guards. And the best part of that plan? The best part was that he wouldn’t even have to utter a single lie. Or, the more he thought about it, perhaps that was the worst part.

***

"Loki," Odin said after he'd dismissed the other guards. It was not a question or an accusation.

Loki tilted his head downwards.

"Yes, my king," Loki confirmed. How he loved double meanings.

"Have you found his body?"

Loki shook his head.

"Why have you returned without his body?" Odin was tight-lipped as he rose from the throne.

This was wrong, this was not an eventually that Loki had been prepared for or anticipated. He would have to improvise.

"We searched for hours–"

"Do you think only searching for a few hours is good enough? He was my  _ son _ ."

Loki's mouth fell open. How was it that himself, the Jotun relic, was declared as a son by the very man who would have beheaded him for his crimes that were less than half of what Thor did? Had someone managed to impose as the Allfather before he’d gotten the chance?

"You would still call him your son?” Loki found himself asking. “After everything?"

"I cannot deny that we did not share the same blood. But it was myself and his mother who raised him and none of his actions can erase that."

Something seemed wrong. Loki could feel his plan slipping around him, or perhaps it was himself who had become entangled and trapped within it.

"Is that so?" Loki didn't mean to let himself say that; it would be too risky, too foolish. No guard with a healthy regard for his life would be as presumptuous as to question the word of the Allfather in such a fashion.

Then Odin looked at him – not at the illusion of the guard that Loki wore – but right at him. Thor had been wrong about many things a long time ago when he named his father an old man and a fool, but he had been right about one of those two things; Odin had grown weary and weak in his old age but he had never been a fool. Loki braced himself for Odin's inevitable attack, to have to haul out magic and dodge blasts from Gungnir, but they never came.

"Loki," Odin said again, softer this time. "I do not know how you are here but despite it all, I find myself glad that you are alive."

Loki's hand tightened around one of his throwing daggers.

"I hope you'll understand if I am having a bit of trouble believing you. It was you, after all, who if you had your way my head would have been removed from my shoulders."

"It would have been a fair sentence for your actions," came Odin's terse reply.

The illusion of the guard fell and Loki was left staring outraged.

"What I did hardly compares to–"

"I am tired of this dance," Odin said, sinking back onto the throne as if this was another court matter.

"As am I." Loki's words were clipped. He flung a dagger in line with an artery in Odin's throat but before it hit, Odin clutched Gungnir and a golden aura appeared around him that deflected the blade. Loki threw himself to one side and one of the Gungnir’s blasts erupted at the place he had stood a short second ago.

Loki aimed another at the hand that clutched the sceptre, knowing that if he could just manage to separate Odin from Gungnir then the rest of it would be comparatively easy. But the ward remained strong and protected Odin well. His dagger fell uselessly to the floor.

"How do you wish for this to play out, Loki?" Odin spoke as if the effort of maintaining the ward was nothing. "When you fail to defeat me, what do you wish to happen? How and why did you return here? What plots are you hatching?"

Loki pressed his treacherous lips together and said nothing.

"Have you returned to spite me? To spit the gift of Valhalla back in my face?”

“Let’s not pretend that was generosity on my behalf; it was Frigga you sought to please.”

Odin ignored him.

“Or are there more to your plans than mere spite? I see no outcome that does not end in you roaming free so tell me: did you find yourself craving the solitary confinement of your cell? If it is Asgard's prison you seek, you needn't attack me. If it is the end of my life that you seek then you cannot have it."

Loki left an illusion of himself stood in front of the Allfather while simultaneously rendering his true form invisible as he crept behind Odin.

"Why not?" He whispered behind Odin's ear and reached through the aura to twist at the arm holding Gungnir. The ward scolded his flesh and caused Loki to let out a cry of pain. With a jerk of the arm, Odin sent Loki reeling backwards.

"Because, Loki," Odin said, "you possess neither the ability nor the conviction to defeat me."

"You believe me to not have the conviction to end your life? Should I be flattered that you think so highly of me? Or should I be dismayed at being so greatly underestimated?” Loki took a step forward in a calculated predatory movement. “Or are you trying to goad me into proving you wrong and making a rash move?"

"Your mother," Odin watched as the mention of her caused an involuntary flinch, "died believing that you are still redeemable. The moment you kill your own father is the day that you can never be redeemed."

Loki grinned widely, showing all of his teeth.

"Then I have nothing to lose."

"You may have killed your own birth father but you never thought of Laufey as your father, did you, boy? He was not the man who raised you. He is not the father who is sitting in front of you. It matters little how many times I wish it not to be true, the fact remains that I am still your father."

"Oh, you had a hand in raising me," Loki said quietly, his rage seeping into his voice like ice and fire all at once. “But you were always a king above a father.”

“Does this mean that you have purposefully forgotten every time I spoke to you as a man does to his son? Every time I listened to the frets of a child and did not dismiss them as idle? Every time we sat together as a family?”

“You appear to be under the impression that these memories are…sweet. You forget how much lies taint things.” Loki gestured to himself as a prime example. “No matter your claims, it is hardly a coincidence that since I learned of my true heritage, you have made no attempt to establish anything remotely resembling fatherly behaviour. Once you could no longer lie to placate me you were happy to lose all paternal attachments–”

"Tell me: do you truly believe your own words or are you merely using them to excuse your behaviour?"

"I could ask you the same question."

"Are you stalling, Loki?"

Loki masked his doubt by wearing a false smile and letting out a light laugh. "What reason could I possibly have to want to stall this?"

"Because you cannot bring yourself to kill me," Odin said. “I’ve known you as my son for almost as long as you have been alive and I know how this scenario will play out. We will argue like this for hours, achieving and resolving nothing until you inevitably fail to slaughter me when you consider me to be in a moment of weakness. Or...I could drop the ward and bring the moment you lash out into occurrence much sooner. You always did have a flair for the dramatic, Loki, but I am afraid this will end when you realise the truth of my words.”

Loki stared in disbelief.

"I will drop the ward and let you take your best shot." Odin nodded to one of Loki's throwing knives lying on the floor. "You have an accurate throwing hand, as I recall. And I guarantee that I will be perfectly safe."

Loki raised a hand, fingers shaking and gripping the handle of one of his throwing daggers. 

"I am not so willing to walk into your trap." Instead, Loki brought up the knife so that it bit into the skin of his own throat. "Let us test the truth of your words, shall we? That’s what you claim you want." The tremor in his voice was more audible than he would have liked. “If you truly consider yourself as my father, you will end this by dropping Gungnir.” He swallowed, hard, then added, “if not, it will hardly be a great loss to you to lose someone you have no familial attachments to."

"Loki, you must have only just returned from Valhalla, be reasonable–" Odin began to move towards him and Loki reflexively dug the blade further into his skin.

"The greatest liar there is," Loki accused, eyes brimming with rage and his face contorted into a snarl as he drew the blade backwards.

Odin threw Gungnir to the ground. "Loki – please."

Loki stared at the sceptre lying on the ground and then at Odin. "Thor was right after all." He barked a laugh. "You  _ are _ a fool."

A vision of Loki, rendered with the blade still at his throat remained in place whilst the true Loki proceeded to move towards the sceptre.

"Loki," Odin said, reaching towards the illusion, "put the knife down." Odin's breaths were laboured and it seemed to require more effort than it should have done for him to move. The Odinsleep. It could not have come at a better time. "Your mother would never forgive me."

Loki gripped Gungnir tightly and pointed it at the back of the man who would only spare him for the wrong reasons. The sceptre was shaking. Loki took a deep breath and prepared to deliver the blow. The Allfather had reached the illusion now, fingers stretching towards the hand gripping the dagger. Then Odin's fingers went straight through it.

Odin stiffened and braced himself.

Now. Loki had to do it now.

A snarl ripped out of Loki's throat and he proceeded to clobber the Allfather around the back of the head. It was a blunt and inelegant blow but Odin slumped to the floor, lying unconscious all the same.

It took only a gesture of the hand to adopt the Allfather’s skin and turn Odin invisible. He blinked at the space where his father’s body lay. He should have been feeling something more. He should have been delighted, filled with relish, triumphant with the knowledge that he defeated the most powerful being in the Nine Realms.

The memory of the last time he witnessed Odin fall into the Odinsleep swelled in his mind’s eye like a bruise.

***

The vaults of Asgard were each the size of a courtroom, with a combination of hundreds of powerful objects, ancient artefacts, and relics with both known and unknown uses forming labyrinths to walk through. Loki could feel the prickling pull of the Tesseract, stronger and more persistent than it had been when he had been confined to his cell. Loki shook it off; he'd survived for over a thousand years without it. He didn't need it, no matter how much the Tesseract tried to convince him otherwise.

The Tesseract was hidden well, but Loki had the advantage of being able to feel it gently tugging at the edges of his mind. Its whispers became stronger the closer he got.

It sat on a tall pedestal, its glowing blue muted by the metallic golden hues of the surrounding objects and walls. Loki grasped it and his flesh felt the most alive it had done since he’d died. The glow of the Tesseract was almost making him giddy, but the elation was of a different brand than the last time he held it. This time it brought him clarity rather than escalating his thoughts and he wondered how he’d managed to survive so long after parting with it.

_ I died _ , Loki reminded himself.  _ This is real _ . 

When his breathing returned to a normal rate he discarded the illusions and stared down at his father’s frail body sprawled on the ground. He curled Odin’s fingers around one handle of the Tesseract’s casing, grasped the other himself, then tugged.

Loki had braced himself for the pain but his bracing had been inadequate. The power of the Tesseract stole through his veins in a rush that was neither hot nor cold but it burned all the same. It was raw energy and it had been so so long since it last touched him.

Once the pain was over normalcy felt sweet, if normalcy could be described as standing on a carpet of fog so thick that he couldn’t see his own boots. The air was more than cold; it was a crisp sting that felt as if it punctured his lungs with each breath he drew in. Odin’s skin had already started losing its colour but Loki knew that it would be longer before he himself would succumb to the cold.

Loki made slow progress with dragging Odin’s body along the ground. The man was heavy and the last time the two of them travelled to Niflheim had been under very different circumstances – Loki had still been a boy and the purpose had been purely educational. Odin had dressed both him and Thor in rare enchanted clothing that would prevent their bodies from freezing so long as they did not remain too long. As they walked, Odin pointed out and named each of the frozen statues of ancient expelled warriors. As a boy, Loki had clung to his father’s hand for fear that the fog was concealing monsters underneath it. As a man, Loki was the monster it concealed.

A thick layer of frost had grown over the Allfather’s skin and clothing. Most men Loki would have trusted the harshness of the realm enough to leave a foe behind, but Odin was no ordinary man and it was not a risk Loki had any desire to take. Loki would wait. He would wait until Odin was indistinguishable from the rest of the statues and only when Odin was no more than another frozen fable would Loki return to Asgard.

Odin was slumped on the ground, the one arm stretched out from Loki dragging him having frozen entirely solid and the rest of his body not far behind. Loki positioned him in the midst of a cluster of warriors and the scene looked like a scattering of life-sized board game pieces, all with Odin at the centre of it. Some of the statues still bore weapons, their frozen faces contorted with rage and their arms raised to strike while others were on their knees, eternally begging kings long since dead to spare them of their fate.

The image of Odin, still and stiff and unmoving with one hand forever reaching out towards him lingered long after he teleported away and it was an image that haunted him as much as it delighted him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Expect regular updates in a few months. I haven't abandoned this, it just needs more work and that'll take time.


	3. Chapter 3

Odin had often said that the throne of Asgard was not a comfortable one to sit upon, but Loki found it rather refreshing. When he gave commands whilst wearing the skin of the Allfather, no one dared question him, no one dared disobey. There was no doubt in the eyes of all who looked upon him. Fear and respect were one and the same with the Allfather. Throughout thousands of years Odin had – so he thought – proven himself as a worthy ruler of Asgard, a wise king who sought to keep the Nine Realms at peace. But, Loki supposed, no king defeated because of lingering sentimental values to a dead woman could be truly considered wise.

The dead hold no judgement over the living. At least, that’s what Loki used to think, but Frigga would not be happy if she were to see him now.

It did not matter. It should not have mattered. The throne was the best possible seat for him to sit upon if he was to plan a strategic and tactical defeat of Thanos. If he could not hide, having the entirety of Asgard’s defence and military at his fingertips was not an undesirable second option.

Loki tapped Gungnir with his fingers as he walked. It helped to focus him. He had still hadn't gotten used to glancing down and seeing hands so aged by time.

"I wish to speak to Heimdall," Loki announced to one of the two guards at the entrance to the dungeons. Even the most mundane of statements seemed to hold great authority when spoken in Odin's voice.

"Yes, your Majesty," one of the guards said. Both of them avoided eye contact and elected instead to stare at their own boots.

"Alone," Loki said and made his way through the maze of cells until he came face to face with Heimdall. It was pleasant to be on the opposite side of the glass.

"Loki," Heimdall spat. It hardly mattered; there were no prisoners or guards close enough to hear him.

"Greetings, Heimdall," Loki said pleasantly. "How fares your sight?"

"These cells cannot shield you from my gaze, Loki. I watched you die and yet here you stand. Tell me how you did it. What was it? Necromancy? A deal with something far more powerful than yourself? Or did your true form prevent you dying a hair’s breadth away from death?"

Loki held his chin upwards and forced civility into his tone. "I am glad to hear these cells do not hinder your vision. Tell me: what other sights have you beheld from behind these walls?"

Heimdall scowled.

"You, imposter. Usurping the throne and tricking those around you into believing that you are the rightful king."

Loki sighed.

"Tell me what you see. What of Jotunheim? What of the temporary peace between other realms? What threatens Asgard? What lurks in the spaces between realms?"

"I serve the true king."

"I am the true king! With Odin gone, Frigga dead, and Thor gallivanting across the Nine who else would the line of succession fall to but me?"

Heimdall turned his gaze to scrutinise Loki's face. Heimdall's gaze had always been unsettling; the man could see the birth of a new-born baby, the last breath a person takes, tears falling for the first time in centuries.

Loki stared back. He had nothing to hide anymore. The guards would take no note of a prisoner's claims, especially if it was a treasonous claim from a man imprisoned for treason.

"The true king must still live." Heimdall’s eyes burned a bright gold.

"Yes, well," Loki flashed a grin. "In that case, he should be here to claim it. In the meantime, I should give you a warning," Loki said. "If there is any information you keep from me know this; you are harming the citizens of Asgard more than you are harming me. I am the only person in Asgard who will listen to you and I also happen to be in a great position of power. If you do not willingly serve me then it still remains your responsibility, as one gifted with great sight, to protect the Nine Realms from falling into chaos."

Heimdall glared with defiance.

"And you, Laufeyson, are the one to stop the Nine Realms from falling into chaos? You, who wears chaos like a cape?"

"At the present," Loki said, "I am all that stands between the Nine Realms and what will come."

Heimdall frowned.

"And what will come?"

"You will know if you see it. I would hate for the realms to suffer on behalf of your petty hatred for me. Do not let yourself be discouraged – you are still Asgard’s gatekeeper. It’s just,” Loki said, looking pointedly at the gate covering the entrance to his section of the prison, “a different gate that you will be keeping." Loki smiled faintly before withdrawing. "Farewell, Heimdall."

***

To say that Loki had been kept occupied would have been an understatement. His current reign was infinitely more complicated the last. In addition to the usual duties of a ruler, his months had been spent strengthening old alliances and forming new ones, and he found that his silver tongue appeared to have become somewhat tarnished and his talents in diplomacy were not as efficient as he would have liked. He had guilds working on designing and building new fortifications for Asgard and he had heavily increased the demand for mining and forging weapons and armour. He had summoned scholars from across the Nine Realms and had them researching the potential locations of the remaining Infinity Stones, all without mentioning the true name of what it was they were searching for.

Maintaining the illusion of Odin over his own form cost his magic heavily. It made him constantly weary and drained of energy.

Loki barely slept. He found that he had too much to accomplish. While the daylight hours were spent in politics and having preparations in place for Thanos's inevitable attack, his own personal research into the whereabouts of the gems ate well into the night. The trail of the Aether had gone cold after Odin had sent it away to an unknown location and he’d discovered little more than vague whispers about the remaining Infinity Stones.

Loki's sleep was always dreamless and never deep enough.

He had been so occupied that it almost escaped his mind that he had yet to have his promised meeting with the Norns. Hela had given no indication of either when or how it would occur, and Loki had been too taken aback by the prospect of being brought back to life on the condition of killing Thanos to think of asking for specifics.

To make matters more complex: Loki was of the firm belief that Asgard needed to expand its kingdom because he knew now that there was no such thing as just the Nine Realms. There were countless realms, all stretching across the universe to places so far away that even Heimdall could not see them. The problem was that Loki knew this, he had walked upon the grounds of these realms that no Aesir had before, but Odin had not. Therefore, Loki had to claim to the rest of council that rather than definitively knowing the existence of worlds outside of the Nine, he had sound reason to suspect that other unexplored worlds may exist. For the first time, there was doubt in their eyes when they looked upon Odin.

"Perhaps you could show us solid evidence, Allfather," the treasurer had suggested. "I would be most curious to see what sort of thing could make you suggest that there are still realms undiscovered."

Loki could have snarled in frustration. Of course, the treasurer would be reluctant to put aside a considerable amount of gold for something which was only viewed as a theoretical possibility. Asgard was a slow realm to adapt, to age, to evolve. It looked exactly the same as it had done a thousand years ago when Loki was still a child. The beliefs were still the same, as were the technology and values.

"There will be evidence," Loki said testily, but he did not add that perhaps the evidence would only present itself too late.

"I do not doubt it, my king," the treasurer replied, head bowed. Lies. Although, if anything, it would only make sense that the greatest liar would be surrounded by a council of liars too. Perhaps they all lied so well that the truth was never discovered, or perhaps they all were able to discern lies so well that communication was rendered functionless, a mere routine.

"Council dismissed," Loki said and watched them scuttle away like insects.

***

When almost a year had passed, it became less unnatural to see the Allfather's gaze staring back at him a glass reflection. Heimdall had claimed not to have seen anything of significance and, although he did not appear to be lying, there was no way to be completely certain.

Thor had a habit of returning to Asgard, preferring to do so less and less frequently. Instead, he spent most of his time on Midgard. Loki thought it strange that Thor would choose to live amongst the humans, but then again, Thor never had a rational mind. Perhaps his lust for battle had simmered a little and was replaced by simple lust for a woman instead.

The Allfather would not approve and, rather unusually, his would-have-been beliefs and Loki's were aligned.

Once it had delighted Loki, how easily he was able to fool Thor into believing that Loki was Thor's father. Now he grew weary of it and the tedium of conversation with Thor irked him.

"Thor," Loki had said during a private feast between the two of them, "high time has passed between the present and your mother's death."

Thor stopped eating and frowned.

"Father?" Thor asked.

"The circumstances of her death… They weigh upon my mind." Loki's tongue felt clumsy.

Thor nodded. "I often find myself recalling the memory when I least wish to do so."

"Yes," Loki said. "It seems that my imagination grows wilder and wilder with possibilities. What if…"

"What if I had gotten there sooner?" Thor finished, his voice gruff. "What if I had never let the Aether bury itself in Jane? If I had never been banished to Earth and met Jane, would Malekith still have found his way to Asgard?"

_The stairs on the_ _left,_  Loki thought but did not utter out loud.

"As Asgard's king I should have the power to stop anything… And yet I failed to prevent my own wife from being killed."

Thor shook his head. "You had no hand in it, Father," Thor said, staring down at his plate. "If anyone should have been able to save her it should have been me. I arrived just in time to see her impaled. I have never felt so useless in all the centuries I have been alive."

"Neither have I," Loki said. “I wish to honour her somehow. I wish to create something for her for all of Asgard to remember her by.”

“Like a statue?”

“Frigga would never have wanted such an overt monument to herself. She would have wanted her values to be remembered, not her image.”

“Then what are you thinking? Gardens for the citizens of Asgard?”

Frigga had found peace in the royal gardens but that was not specific enough to her person for Loki.

“Actually, I was considering establishing new academies in her name.” Loki elected to omit the possibility of these schools being schools for sorcerers as it might be seen as too radical of a shift in Odin’s values for the time being.

“Oh!” Thor beamed. “Yes! She’d like that.”

The two of them continued eating in content silence until Loki introduced a new topic of conversation.

"There is a rumour that concerns me…" Loki said.

"What is it, Father?"

"I have heard tales that something heads for Asgard, something which does not come from within the Nine Realms."

"Something from outside of the Nine Realms?" Thor scoffed and then quickly adjusted his tone to a suitably more respectful one. "I thought that not possible." Thor shoved a large slice of boar into his mouth. "Whatever makes you believe these tales are anything more than hearsay?"

"Are you questioning my judgement?"

"No. No. Of course not. I was simply curious."

"If you have as much faith and respect for me as you claim, then you should know that I would have valid reasons to entertain the possibility," Loki said, cutting the rind of his meat with a knife and eyeing Thor.

“I know you would, Father.”

"Good. Then I have a favour to request of you. A quest, if you like."

"Yes, Father?"

Loki licked the sweet honey sauce residue of the meat from his lips.

"There may be future grievances for Asgard should these claims prove to be true." Which they certainly would be if Thor managed to complete the task with any degree of competence. "For the safety of our people I need someone I can trust to venture out and gather adequate evidence on behalf of our realm. I would complete the task myself but Asgard needs to keep its king close. I can think of no one better than you." How hard times must be for Asgard when Thor was the most qualified person to fulfil a task like this. Loki suppressed a shudder.

"Of course." Thor looked cheered at the thought. "I will do it. I will bring so much evidence that it would be heavy enough to break the rainbow bridge.”

"I am pleased to hear it," Loki replied and Thor, who had long since finished his meal, rose from the table. "And Thor?"

"Yes, my King?"

"Do it with haste."

***

More time passed but the Norns still had not presented themselves. They were the gods of the gods within their own right and Loki had many speculations about how they would appear. They could hardly just walk into Asgard. Perhaps they would establish communication in a more abstract manner; he had read stories about the Norns speaking to people from within their dreams and stories about people having strange visions all while fully awake.

Perhaps that was the problem. Loki had been so occupied and sleeping so little that he could not recall having had dreams for months. It was entirely possible that he had inadvertently blocked the only form of communication with the Norns that he could have. Would Hela consider her favour given if the Norns had attempted to meet with him and had failed?

Loki vowed to test his theory and headed to his chambers at a more reasonable hour. The information he could gain from the Norns would surely be more valuable than the scrapings of vague information he’d gleaned from various books.

"Father!" a voice shouted, jolting Loki from his musings. "Father!" Thor shouted. "I have found and returned what you asked of me!"

Loki stood up slowly and excused himself from the council, bringing Thor in tow to an empty servant's quarters nearby.

Then he noticed that Thor was not alone. A few paces behind him a red humanoid figure drifted, taking in its surroundings with a soulless analytical gaze.

Loki turned to Thor.

"What is  _that?"_

"He," Thor corrected, "is Vision."

"I asked you to return an object from another realm and instead you bring me this?"

"Father, listen!" Thor's eyes were bright with light. "He holds evidence that other realms exist."

Loki pursed his lips.

"Explain."

"I will, but it is no short story."

Loki scowled. Thor's quest should have been so easy! All he needed to do was return from the planet he already holidaying upon with some remains of a Chitauri soldier or a piece of their technology and be done with it! Instead, Thor had brought...that. Loki eyed the thing Thor named Vision with disdain. Vision caught his gaze and returned it with a pleasant smile, or what Loki assumed the thing thought was a pleasant smile. It was neither creature nor beast. Neither human nor machine.

Creatures, beasts, humans, and machines, Loki knew how to operate. This thing fell into no such category and Loki was not sure what to make of it.

"Then proceed," Loki said, sliding his eyes off it and to Thor.

Thor's methods of storytelling were as convoluted and as glorified as ever, but eventually Loki managed to discern the truth: Thor had intended to return with the sceptre but had found that without the core it was no more than a useless artefact. Which brought Thor around to explaining what exactly had happened to the core of the sceptre.

"I'm afraid I am not quite following." The words left Loki’s mouth with reluctance – it was something he had never had to say to the likes of Thor before.

"I am not sure I fully understand it either, Father, but as it stands, the Mind Gem is implanted in Vision's forehead."

He turned to Vision.

"Have you mastered the Mind Gem?"

“Mastered it?”

“Do you feel that you have full control over it?”

Vision shook his head. Just as well. It would hardly do for the sentient synthetic flesh come to life to be able to peer into his thoughts and reveal Loki for who he truly was.

"It enables me to do remarkable things but I believe there is still much that I don't know, sir."

“The proper term,” Loki said with a frown, “is your Majesty.”

Vision exchanged a look with Thor. “Then my apologies, your Majesty.”

"But as interesting a tale it is, Thor," Loki said, "this does neither prove nor disprove that any realms outside of the Nine exist."

"There is more, your Majesty," Vision said, pulling out the sceptre from behind its back.

Loki took it with caution.

It was not as it once was. Where before, the tip of it glowed a bright blue, this time there was just an empty void surrounded by the pointed metal of the tip of the sceptre. There was no pleasant thrumming when he clasped his hand around it, and the only use the sceptre had left would be as an impaling weapon.

"A weapon belonging to a realm outside of the Nine," Loki murmured, accidentally forgetting that he had intended to present the statement as a question.

"Yes," Thor confirmed. "I consulted with an expert on Midgard and I am sure that Asgard's smiths will not be able to identify the metal used to forge it either."

"Hmm," Loki said, surprised, "this may work."

Thor grinned widely.

"I told you I was up for the task."

Loki turned to Vision.

“You are welcome to continue your stay in Asgard indefinitely.”

“I had hopes of returning back to Earth soon, your Majesty. I have duties that I am needed for.”

That complicated matters. A prisoner unaware of their imprisonment was a much more well-behaved prisoner than one aware of it.

“Have you ever left Midgard before?” Loki asked.

“No.”

“Then are you not curious? Do you not wish to explore while you are fortunate enough to be here?”

Vision was hesitant.

“Of course, but–”

“As a friend and shield brother of Thor’s, the entirety of Asgard’s hospitality is extended to you. Thor will show you to your chambers.”

“Actually, Father,” Thor said, “I have something I wish to speak to you about. Privately.”

Loki gestured to a servant and he motioned for Vision to follow him. After the two had left, Thor was frowning.

“Why did you do that?” Thor asked.

“Be more specific.”

“You didn’t extend the same courtesies to Jane when I brought her here. You made your opinion of my mortal companions very clear.”

“That is true. However, at the time I was unaware that the Aether was contained inside of her body. The same can be said for your new companion.”

Thor’s eyes were lined with suspicion.

“What do you intend to do with him?”

“I wish him no ill fortune. In fact, I would go as far to say that I wish him the best of fortunes, as, if any persons with nefarious intentions should manage to get their hands on what is embedded inside of his forehead…”

“So you want him to remain here, as you wanted Jane to despite all the destruction it could have brought? You said it would be unwise for the Aether and the Tesseract to be in the same place at one time. Why would this be any different?”

“The Mind Gem is unlikely to reawaken long thought extinct races as the Aether did. And the creature who wields the Mind Stone appears to have a much more stable grasp of its power than your Jane ever did.”

“Are you intending to weaponise him then? Is that your plan?”

“The knowledge that he has already been weaponised by your so-called Avengers appears to have eluded you. How would Asgard utilising his powers be any worse than Midgard doing precisely the same thing?”

Thor stared at him as if he was a stranger.

“Vision is reasonable and good-hearted. I am sure that if you were to just speak to him honestly he would be willing to help.”

“I have few reasons to trust him and little knowledge of his character to form a valid basis of–”

“I will vouch for him, father. He is able to pick up Mjolnir.”

Loki raised an eyebrow.

“In that case,” he said, “it will be your duty to watch over him. You will ensure that he does not leave Asgard without permission, that no one else learns the truth of him, and – most importantly – that no one else harnesses the power of the Mind Stone.”

Thor shook his head. It wasn’t a refusal, it was an expression of distaste.

“Very well but I will not lie to a friend.”

“You do not have to lie to him,” Loki said, “I am merely asking you to abstain from informing him of the entire truth.”

***

"May I ask the purpose of our council meeting?" the treasurer questioned.

"You may," Loki replied and presented the sceptre. Perhaps if the treasurer continued being his irksome self, Loki could skewer him with it instead. The sceptre was only a skeleton of what it once had been, but the craftsmanship did not resonate clearly with any of the realms. "I believe," Loki said, as if he held any doubts, "that this artefact I hold is considerable evidence."

The council members looked at each other, some frowning, some shocked, others curious.

"I have consulted with several blacksmiths from this realm and others. None can identify the metal used to forge the weapon.”

“Where was it found?” One of the council members asked.

“This is the weapon that Loki used to invade Midgard after falling into the abyss. Perhaps the abyss is not as empty as we believe." Loki placed the sceptre on the table. He cared not whether they touched it; it made no difference with the absence of the Mind Gem. "I believe anyone of a rational mind would question how a weapon can be forged inside of an abyss – unless of course, the abyss had another side. You may examine the sceptre yourselves. You will see unfamiliar markings across the underside and you are welcome to invite any scholars, smiths and linguists to take a look at it to confirm its origins. I give you three days before I deem it necessary to begin taking action regarding this discovery."

There was an intake of breath at his suggestion of three days, but his patience was past being worn thin. His role as king was a constant struggle between acting upon what he knew was necessary and maintaining the illusion that Odin had come to these conclusions by himself and through reasonable means.

Ultimately, three days should not have been too great a cost.

 

***

"Father?" Thor asked during a private feast one evening.

"What is it?"

"I am concerned about one of the prisoners–"

"You do not need to trouble yourself with the likes of them."

"I cannot help it when it is entirely my fault that one of them became a prisoner in the first place."

"You still wish Heimdall to be free."

"It was myself who talked him and everyone else into the plan, if it wasn't for me–"

"What they did was treason," Loki said quietly. "Are you aware of what the usual punishment for treason is?"

"I... I am."

"Then you should consider that I have already shown a great amount of leniency."

"But it is not fair that as the instigator of it all I am free whilst they are locked inside of cells!"

"I would never allow my son to be imprisoned like that." For the first time, Loki could not quite identify the expression on Thor's face and found the experience to be most unsettling. Was it disgust? Distaste? Doubt? Loki could see no reason why Thor would regard Odin in that manner.

“You believe us to be on the brink of war?” Thor spoke after a long moment.

“I know us to be.”

“Then you should put my friends to good use. You know their hearts serve the realm and they are no good to anyone locked away inside their cells.”

“And what you have me do?”

Thor was quiet in contemplation.

"Hogun would be able to persuade the Vanir to our cause much better than any Aesir. Sif would be well respected in Alfheim as the elves favour female warriors. And Fandral has a reputation for being one of the most charming men in Asgard for a reason. I would send him to deal with our less amicable allies."

"And Volstagg?"

"Volstagg... Er..."

"I suppose that as a seasoned warrior, he would make an effective trainer," Loki said, not unkindly.

"He would indeed." Thor sounded far too happy.

"Do not mistake this for me granting them freedom. I am merely using their capabilities due to being pressed inside of a dire situation. They still will be expected to answer for their crimes against the crown upon completing their tasks, although their sentences may be reduced depending upon their performance."

The sound of their knives and forks scraping was the only thing to break the silence until Thor spoke again.

"Father?" Thor asked with uncharacteristic tentativeness.

"What troubles your mind?"

"Has... Has Loki's body been found yet?"

"No," Loki responded curtly.

"But surely they must have found something by now? How many men were sent?"

"I sent an appropriate number of men for the task."

Thor's expression darkened.

"How many men?"

Loki gave his best stern glare, one that came ever so naturally to Odin's features.

"I sent a small team."

"What does that mean? Two? Twenty? Two hundred?"

"It is not your place to question me." Each word was punctuated with finality and authority.

The anger in Thor's eyes had passed and what remained was sadness.

"He was my brother and your son. Regardless of his wrongdoings, he was Asgard's prince. He has a right to a funeral."

Loki froze for a moment before managing to respond.

"Sending a dead and flaming body out into the open water is hardly a priority compared to the defence and fortification of Asgard."

Thor stared at him with something akin to revulsion.

"Who _are_ you?"

"Asgard's king. I am who the realm needs me to be."

"An old man so desperate to distract himself from the death of his wife and son that he invents a high-level threat to occupy himself with?"

Loki stood up so abruptly that it almost unbalanced the table.

"WHO ARE YOU SPEAKING TO?" Loki bellowed. Odin had been so very fond bellowing.

Thor flinched but met his gaze steadily.

"My father. I speak to you as my father, not as Asgard's king."

_Good._

"They are one and the same." Loki placed his cutlery back on the table. "I find that my appetite has disappeared."

***

It was a relief to not have to hide behind the skin of the Allfather around another being, even if it was only one. The simple pleasure of it had eluded him on a daily basis for almost three years now.

"I have seen…something."

"I need more than that, Heimdall."

"It stirs beyond the branches of the Yggdrasil, in places too dark for me to see. Or it _did_ stir, at least. Now it moves forward, and the fleet is gaining in numbers."

"Tell me, where does the fleet head towards?"

“It heads for Asgard. The fleet should arrive in a number of weeks.”

Loki cursed.

“You know who has sent the fleet?” Heimdall enquired.

“It’s irrelevant now. But, yes, I know what he is capable of.”

“I’ve been watching you with great interest.”

“And great suspicion too, I would assume.”

“That is true. I also think it true that you have been attempting to raise Asgard’s defences and increase the number of soldiers and allies that we have.”

Loki laughed and it was high pitched and wrong. It echoed off the walls and reverberated strangely until he could hear his own hysterical laughter echoed back at him.

“You think I require your approval? _Now?_   What good are you _now?_ All I needed you for was a warning of when he enters the Nine Realms, and a direction of where he heads.”

“You fear him.”

“Any person who doesn’t winds up dead. Or worse.”

“ _You_ wound up dead and yet here you stand.”

“I’m aware. If that is all, I must be going–"

“Wait.”

Loki paused. The panic hadn’t settled in yet. He hadn’t accepted the reality fully of Thanos was attacking and his months and months of political manoeuvrings and research doing him so little good.

“There’s more?” Loki hardly dared to ask.

“The fleet appears to be following some sort of signal or trail. I thought it was heading for Midgard but it changed directions entirely when the source of the signal moved.”

That had not been what Loki had expected.

“Where is this signal?”

“Currently strolling the gardens with Thor.”

Loki left the dungeons, his cape billowing behind him. He barely remembered to put the illusion back in place before exiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you returning after the hiatus, the OC/Norse Mythology Hel from chapter 1 has been modified to be the Hela we see in Thor Ragnarok but the plot remains the same.


	4. Chapter 4

“Thor,” Loki commanded, slightly out of breath, “forget what I said about Sif and the Warriors Three. I have a much more important task for you all.”

“Father? Is everything alright?”

“No, Thor. This is urgent. I need to speak with you privately.”

Thor nodded a brief farewell to Vision and the two of them walked deeper into the vacant area of the gardens.

“What is it?” Thor asked.

“It’s your companion. He cannot remain here.”

“But you said–”

“Never mind what I said! Listen to me!” Loki grabbed Thor’s shoulders. “It’s happening again! The gem – it’s reaching out to its previous master.  Asgard is not ready, Thor! This is what I’ve been preparing for and _we need more time_. Do you hear me?”

“What do you need of us?”

“I need you to take him as far away as you can, I need you to be constantly moving, I need you to not let anyone touch him – anyone bar one.”

“My King?”

“The man who comes… You cannot fight him. You would die. All your friends would die. You must promise me, Thor, that if Thanos catches up with you that you flee!”

“I’m no coward.”

“This isn’t a question of cowardice! This is a question of saving the life of you and all your friends! What good is dying if it is all for nothing? If you choose to fight you will all die but if you flee only one of you might die. What good is nobility and pride if it only leads you to more death? Is it truly noble then?”

“I’d rather die a proud man than live to see myself become someone who lets their friends die.”

Loki shook him in frustration.

“You would not be _letting_ him die. You would not be _allowing_ him to die. If Thanos is on his tail then Thanos _will_ find him and use him in whatever ways he sees fit. Do you understand?"

“Who is this Thanos and why–”

“I do not have time to fully explain to you the gravity of the situation and who he is. But know this: your companion lures him to Asgard with every second he remains here. Asgard is not prepared. Asgard will fall if he arrives.”

“I cannot in good conscience assist you in sending off a man to die.”

“That’s not what this is! I am sending the group of you away to lure Thanos away and spare the destruction of Asgard and its people. Whilst you are away I advise that you do all that you can to separate your companion from the gem. If you manage to accomplish that, bring the gem to me immediately. If it is a choice between your companion’s life and Thanos acquiring another gem then there is only one true option. It is _imperative_ that Thanos does not get another gem, do you hear me? He is already far too powerful and he will become even more unstoppable if he succeeds.”

“I believe…” Thor said. “I am beginning to understand.”

Loki noticed that his fingers were digging into Thor’s shoulders in what must have been a painful manner and released him.

“If you use your mind rather than Mjolnir you all could survive this,” Loki said gently. “But I need you to know that there can be no compromise here. This is not like how it was with Jane. The odds are not the same. Thanos can and will destroy you all if he crosses your path. Malekith is nothing but a pup in comparison to him.”

”You fear him.” Thor was stunned.

“Any person capable of forming a single rational thought should be. Now. Are you up to the task?”

“I…”

Loki grit his teeth.

“I know it seems like a terrible moral choice to you Thor, but what is the value of one life against the lives of every Asgardian you know?”

Thor’s mouth was hung open slightly and Loki could feel the remaining time they had slipping away.

“How about this? You give me your word that when the time comes you will return and under no circumstances allow Thanos to reunite with the Mind Stone, and in return I will release Heimdall for you.”

“I don’t suppose you are giving me much of a choice.”

“No,” Loki said. “If you don’t agree you will force me to send someone else in your stead. A less capable warrior. Your friend’s chances of surviving would fall lower.”

Was that resentment lurking behind Thor’s eyes?

“Fine then,” Thor said. “But I hope to prove you wrong.”

“Oh, and Thor,” Loki added when Thor’s back was turned, “a final word of advice. Use the Bifrost. Thanos is many things but he is not faster than the Bifrost. Call out to Heimdall and he will hear you.” _And,_ Loki added privately, _he will summon you back when you fail to abandon your friend._

***

Asgard changed slowly. A matter of a few weeks would have made little difference in the political climate but with the Mind Stone gone, Loki had bought Asgard more time. Leaders from across the realms had answered the Allfather's invitation and gathered in the golden halls of the Realm Eternal, making it busier than Loki had ever known it.

The Allfather would not have attacked Thanos unless attacked, would not have spent so much of the realm's resources upon its defence without having witnessed the wrath of the invader first. It was not mercy or pacifism; it was a strategic move in order to gain more information about how the enemy would attack. They were lucky that he was not the Allfather. The wisest king there had ever been, if the word of the common folk was to be believed, and he would not have anticipated the death and destruction that Thanos would bring upon them all. Loki had seen it first-hand. He had lived it and breathed it and drowned in it.

It was not a question of _if_ Thanos would invade Asgard, it was a question of _when_. The average lifespan of the Aesir was thousands of years long and no doubt Thanos would see that lifespan as an insult to Hela herself. How many fabled and seasoned warriors Asgard housed would only make Asgard a more valuable sacrifice in Thanos’s eyes. Worthy souls, he had called them. Theirs, but not Loki’s. The first thing Thanos had told him was that Loki’s soul was unworthy of Hela and for precisely that reason, Thanos had allowed him to live. Thanos had not wished to insult Lady Death with something so meagre as Loki’s soul.

Loki was the reason that the name of Asgard fell into Thanos’s ears.

He wondered whether the news of his death had fallen to Thanos’s ears too. Loki debated whether Thanos would have believed it to be true. Thanos would have his doubts; he had seen into the very core of Loki's being in order to determine which of his weaknesses would be of most use to him. Thanos was clever; he had to be, he would never have gotten this far if he wasn't.

Time. Loki could not indefinitely stall the attack. His hopes of forming alliances across the universe rather than merely within the Nine Realms were rapidly diminishing. He had thoughts that maybe, with all their combined forces, resources, and intelligence, their chances of survival would be considerably higher.  Unless something rapidly changed, Asgard would not survive the Mad Titan's attack. Perhaps if they'd had more time to prepare, to make more alliances, to gain more knowledge, then the outcome would be different. As it stood, Asgard was doomed. The Aesir would be able to stall Thanos, and only stall him.

And Loki would not sit idle to die with them.

***

Loki was still as equally bewildered as to precisely what Hela meant by the Norns paying him a visit. He'd been sleeping in irregular patterns, half in anticipation of them coming to him in a dream like in the stories, and the remainder of his truly doomed attempt at a sleeping pattern could be attributed to a combination of having died, having been brought back to life, and the newfound responsibility of destroying the most powerful being in the universe.

But as far as Loki was aware, the Norns had not come to him in his sleep. His sleep had not been deep nor restful enough for him to remember any of the stories his mind told him during the night.

Asgard's king was in a constant state of not to be disturbed. Which was why the entirety of the council, not to mention the king himself, were surprised when they received an anonymous piece of parchment containing a message demanding to formally meet with 'Asgard's new king,' as well as a mysterious signature of three indecipherable runes underneath the careful script.

Before, the insinuation that the writer of the letter could have known that he was an imposter would have been a great concern. Now it was an irritating complexity to account for.

"Tell them they can wait," Loki instructed the guard who handed over the letter. "The king is very busy attending to urgent matters."

The guard bowed his head and turned to make his leave, but before he reached the door, three women walked straight through the doorway as if the tens of guards meant nothing to them.

Each guard lining the perimeter of the room drew their swords and moved in a formation to protect their king.

"We pose no threat," one of the women said.

"Trying to harm us will not put you in good fortune," the middle one said.

"We only wish to speak to Lok–"

"Name yourselves," Loki interrupted timely and the three women glanced at each other. “I trust you do have names.”

They turned to face him them and he felt their eyes piercing through his false skin. He searched their faces in return, hoping for some clue as to their origins.  In terms of physicality, they had little in common; they ranged in physique and skin colour and based on appearance alone, he could not identify which of the Nine Realms the hailed from. They all had a slightly otherworldly look to them that could not be attributed to one particular feature and they looked as if they had not seen the sunlight in months.

"We do," they replied.

"Though we shall not waste time with such frivolities as the names you gave us," the one in the middle added.

"And are you aware that you are addressing the king? The king that you so rudely interrupted whilst he was making important decisions that impact on all the realms?"

"We are."

Gungnir slipped in Loki's grasp but he managed to catch it before it fell to the floor.

"Are you under the impression that I, _Odin Allfather_ ," Loki emphatically stressed his title, "allow insolence to go unpunished?"

"We have little concept of insolence within our culture."

"And what culture is that, exactly?"

"It matters not," the one on the left with wild curly dark hair said. "We have a message to deliver of the utmost importance to one Loki–"

"I've had enough of this," Loki interrupted. "If it is Loki you wish to speak to," Loki gave them a very significant look, "then you may find his body in the catacombs below. I do hope you enjoy speaking to dead men."

The three of them gave him puzzled frowns.

"Go!" Loki commanded, eager to see them off before they gave away any more clues about his true identity. "I have important things to discuss and I am sure it's considered impolite to keep a dead man waiting."

***

The three strangers had ventured farther into the catacombs than Loki had anticipated by the time he was able to sneak away without raising suspicion. His torch was almost depleted of oil when he found them.

"No disguises this time," Loki said, arms in a gesture that was as apologetic as it was modest. "I hope to avoid any further confusion."

"You have wasted much time," the one with hair the same colour as the whites of her eyes said.

"Clearly," Loki retorted, "you have never been involved in the political manoeuvrings of a royal court."

"You may find yourself surprised at the threads we manipulate, Loki. I assume that is how you would have us address you? You have had so many names that it is difficult to keep track of them all. Laufeyson.  Odinson. Silvertongue. Asgardian. Frost Giant. Slayer of Frost Giants. Slayer of fathers. Prince of Asgard. King of Asgard–"

"Stop talking, Urd." The voice of the middle woman rang with authority. "We have much to discuss and very little time in which to discuss it."  

"Perhaps you should have cared to visit me earlier. I am a very busy man, after all," Loki interjected.

"We dug our way out of our underground city and traversed the stars to find you!" the middle one hissed.

One of the adjacent women comforted her by patting her arm and her rage subsided.

"I assume you know who we are?" the comforter asked.

“Did Hela send you?” Loki asked instead.

“We do not follow her command, although she did request that we speak to you. We came voluntarily.”

"Then you must be the three original Norns, Urd, Verdandi, and Skuld. I must admit I had wondered when exactly you would deign to visit me.”

"Fool!" the middle one hissed. "Your line of fate lies in tangles on the floor of my spindle wheel and you dare accuse _us_ of incompetence."

Loki rolled his eyes. "I have a war to prepare for. I'd appreciate it much more if you hurried to the part where you tell me how to win it."

"The fate of far more than the Nine Realms is at a great peril."

Another roll of the eyes. "Yes, I am aware of that."

"And we have combed and combed the threads of fate searching for strands that allow for our continued survival, but have since only come across one very delicate tangle."

"Excellent," Loki said, "then there is a chance of success after all. If you would be so kind as to inform me how to follow that strand then I shall be most grateful.”

“It is not so simple.”

“Not so simple?” Loki retorted. “Each one of you has domain over the entirety of the past, present, and future. How could it possibly be complicated for you?”

“We can see and persuade but we cannot _force_.”

“Then how does that make you any better than a standard fortune-teller?”

Loki was aware that it was unwise to anger them but he could not quite bring himself to regret it either.

“Even a true seer could not tell you of alternative paths you might have taken. The prison escape, Kurse, the stairs to the left – you altered his path. Had you not, Frigga would have survived for a few more years –  depending upon how you fare against Thanos, of course,” Urd said.

Loki’s jaw was tight.

“But do not mistake me,” she continued.  “If Kurse had not killed your mother then you in turn would not have set out on your course to kill Kurse and Thor would not be alive. One way or another you would have suffered a great loss, both caused inadvertently by your actions.”

Loki could not formulate words to speak.

“Now listen carefully,” another one of the three instructed, “because you have almost wasted all the time you have. You know what is coming, yes?"

“Thanos.”

"He who would break apart the wheels of fate. "

"That aspect does not sound unappealing."

"You have no idea, godling, of the role that fate has played within your life," Urd said.

"Actually, I think I do," Loki said coldly. "And in this instance, I would gladly help Thanos destroy it."

"You blame fate for the mistakes that you have made and you seek to avoid responsibility and shift the blame like a child! The fault is your own."

"How easy it must be to say that from the point of view of the ones who have the grasp of the spindle."

"Make no mistake; we do not control fate. We spend our lives attempting to coax and persuade it but fate is not an easy beast to tame. Fate does not run like yarn does; it has a will of its own, and often there is little we can do regardless of our knowledge of all of the potential paths that lie ahead to form the tapestry."  

"How strange, it almost sounds as if you are trying to absolve yourselves of the blame."

Another one spoke, the one Loki suspected was Skuld. "What tragedies lie in your past will be nothing compared to what lies ahead in your future if you proceed not to listen to us."

"Tragedies that lie ahead in my future?" Loki scoffed. "All I can do is die. I am the only person left in the entire universe that I still care for."

"You should learn quickly that it is not easy to lie to beings that have borne witness to your entire past and all of the futures that branch ahead of you. Thor still lives,” the middle one said. “Your brother still lives."

Loki's eyes shifted between each of them. “Why haven’t you visited him as well if you find me so uncooperative? Heroism is much more his area. I care not whether you die. I care not whether Thanos destroys realms upon realms until the surfaces of them are covered in nothing but blood and bone. I have no wish to die. I will be the saviour of naught but myself.”

“Yes, child, we know,” Urd said. “I have borne witness to every decision you have ever made, and I hold you as personally responsible for many of the wrinkles underneath my eyes. I know you more than you know yourself and there is nothing you could do that would surprise me.”

"What she means to say is that your threads are particularly...stubborn. We've had little success manipulating them in the past. We had hopes that speaking to you in person would yield better results than invisible and from afar," the middle one – Verdandi? – explained.

"If it's my soul you're after, I'm afraid it's already been claimed."

"We require nothing that belongs to you. It is our wish to attempt to guide you, for our mutual benefit. Should Thanos find us he will attempt to slay us, and we wish to remain alive."

"You want me to kill him for you then."

"You were already going to attempt to kill him for your own benefit. Our goal is to increase your chances of succeeding."

"Continue."

"The key to Thanos's power lies within his control over the Infinity Gems. Therefore, the key to defeating him lies within the gems. I have been informed that you have already formed a unique alliance with one of the gems."

Loki instantaneously knew she was not referring to the Mind Gem. And how the Soul Gem had marked him could hardly be described as an alliance.

"The Tesseract," Loki murmured.

Skuld nodded a confirmation. "You are one of a very select number of beings who have successfully entangled with the Tesseract before. Hela had good reason to choose you as the assassin to defeat Thanos. The odds are considerably higher in your favour than almost anyone else's with the advantage of the Tesseract."

"But–"

"Yes, the Tesseract alone will not be enough."

"The remaining gems, then." Loki's voice was flat.

"Correct. There are minor complications, however."

"Beyond merely locating them?"

"Yes. You will never master the others. We've examined every thread of fate that branches ahead of you, and in none do you master them. Forget the Mind Stone and the Aether; it is the Time Stone you should seek. If you wish to succeed you will need to form an alliance with a person who can master it."

Loki stared ahead blankly for a second. "If you tell me that my oaf of a brother is the only person who can master it..."

"Not Thor."

"Who then?"

"Your threads have intersected in the past before."

"The name, if you would be so kind."

"On one condition. After we tell you, you must immediately find him. If you do not, he will die. The universe's odds of surviving fall considerably lower.  You must remember that we truly have examined all the branches and it is only in the paths in which the two of you form an alliance that your chances are highest and it becomes a possibility that you succeed."

"The name," Loki repeated.

Verdandi retrieved the Tesseract from where they had placed it around a corner.

"The name he goes by," she said, thrusting it into his hand that wasn’t clutching Gungnir, "is Tony Stark."

Tony Stark? The mortal Midgardian man? Loki would have laughed if he had not been so stunned.

It took a short moment to recall which one of Midgard’s self-proclaimed group of mightiest heroes Tony Stark was. He was the one with the flying suit of armour. the one who had somehow managed to resist the Mind Stone which had marked the beginning of a series of events resulting in Loki’s failure.

“The Avenger?” Loki asked, perhaps on the off-chance that there was another Tony Stark somewhere who was not so quite so frailly mortal and who did not already classify Loki as an enemy. A withering look confirmed his worst suspicions.

“And how exactly do you propose that I persuade–”

“You agreed!” she hissed. “You must go! Now!”

Loki clutched at the Tesseract, willing it to succumb to his will and focusing his thoughts upon his memory of the city of Midgard.

“Wait!” Loki urged. “The Time Gem – where is it?” The blue of the Tesseract was growing and brighter.

Verdandi made a quick gesture with her hand as if she was throwing an invisible object at him.

Loki caught a brief glimpse of a vision, one of the inside of a cold icy chamber. Before he had time to make sense of it, the vision was obliterated by the blast of the Tesseract and the Norns were gone.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter are in the tags.

There was a bright flash of blue and tendrils of icy smoke rose from Loki's back as he appeared at the top of Stark Tower. The Tesseract’s energy burned through the core of his bones like molten lava and it was a pain as sweet as it was sharp, a pain that Loki had missed dearly.   

For a brief moment, Stark Tower was almost exactly as he remembered, except perhaps emptier. Then his vision cleared and the reason for the Norns’ urgency became apparent when he glanced the view of outside. The city was smouldering with the ashes of the buildings, and bodies were littered on the ground below like leaves fallen from trees.

Midgard was at war. Whether it was with itself or some other realm was unknown. He scoured the horizon, fearing the worst invader but finding no evidence to either confirm or deny it.

Loki disappeared into the tower but found it abandoned. If Stark was not inside of his tower then that meant he was likely at battle, and the Norns had somehow saddled Loki with the responsibility of finding him. 

As Loki made his way out into the streets below, the evidence presented itself with the Chitaurian soldiers. So it was Thanos then. A curse slipped out of Loki’s lips. For reasons unknown, Thanos had turned his sights to Midgard. Had the Mind Stone led Thanos here or was it something more? Was there another Infinity Gem Loki was unaware of on Midgard? 

Loki's stomach clenched.

Stark was in more immediate peril than he would have guessed and the idea of himself saving the human's life was utterly preposterous and yet... If the Norns had told him the truth, then his own life would rely on Stark's survival. 

Loki moved forwards, using his ears as guidance and he rendered himself invisible to the eye, not out of fear of the soldiers, but for the purpose of passing through them with greater efficiency. The resounding chaos of the battle could not be mistaken. The capital of the planet had been destroyed almost beyond recognition.

The number of Chitauri far outnumbered the number of humans. The humans were everywhere all at once. Lying dead on the ground, shooting from floating ships in the sky, fighting on hand and foot. None of them knew yet how little chance they stood, how futile their efforts would be. All the fighters would die.

Loki was running now, the Tesseract in one hand and Gungnir in the other. Twice he narrowly avoided tripping over stranded corpses and another time he only just managed to avoid a story of a building collapsing above him.

Stark. He had to find Stark. Loki might have had trouble accepting that Stark was supposedly a person who he could benefit from, but he had no wishes to take a gamble on his own fate by allowing him to die.  

Loki pushed forwards into the heart of the battle where humans and Chitauri alike were fighting so densely that there was hardly any path for him to walk through.

He scanned the sky and the ground both, searching for the red and gold armoured man. Red was everywhere. A shield, painted in red and blue and white lying forlornly on the ground. The copper hair of Midgard’s own spider splayed across the pavement and next to her, the metallic blood-red synthetic skin of the one they named Vision. There was a sickening empty hole in his forehead where the Mind Stone had once been.

Blood. There was so much blood. The battle must almost be over.

Thanos must have got what he came for.

At least Heimdall must have managed to transport Thor back to Asgard.

Loki turned another corner.

He had so little time.

Then he saw him at the end of the street. Thanos. The icy blue of his eyes sent chills so deeply down Loki's spine that it caused him to freeze. It was only when Thanos's eyes moved over him that Loki was able to move again.

Stark. Where was Stark?

There were still no signs of him flying in the sky. Was Loki too late? Had he risked coming here for nothing?

Loki searched the ground again instead, clinging to the hope that the man may be fighting on his feet instead of in the air.

A flash of red high up heralded his attention. But it wasn’t Stark, instead–

_Thor?_

Thor wasn’t supposed to be here! He had sent Thor to lead Thanos on a wild goose chase, not to challenge him in combat! And Heimdall! He had counted on Heimdall ultimately betraying him in the end, but he had trusted Heimdall at least get Thor away the instant Thanos got too close. Heimdall must have not believed him, must have assumed that Thor stood a strong fighting chance against Thanos – either that or he must have assumed that spiriting Thor away would be some part of Loki’s schemes.

It didn't matter now. Neither had listened. Thor was here.

A cold wave of fury washed over Loki.

He couldn't afford distractions and this – this was a distraction.

Thor launched himself through the air and thunder boomed as he emitted a huge bolt of lightning from Mjolnir.

Thanos did not so much as flinch.

Loki looked away. Thanos was not angry yet; he was practically welcoming the attack with arms open wide. Thor had time yet.

It was imperative that Loki managed to locate Stark. Stark was the key to surviving. He had to, he must, he had no choice but to prioritise finding Stark first, no matter how much it tore at him.

He’d already died for Thor once.

Then – there in the shadow of the buildings, he saw it. Loki's stomach plummeted further, but he ran towards it regardless. The shell of the armour lay sprawled on the ground before him, the metal dented and singed in too many places to count.

_No no no_ _–_ this was supposed to be his only chance to live. The only way he could fulfil his end of the bargain. The only way he’d see Frigga again and not have to watch the universe wilt away into a lifeless eternity. Loki's mouth hung open and his hands flittered helplessly over the faceplate. Stark had to be alive. He had to be. If Loki had been too late…

The amour twitched and Loki could breathe again. Alive! Stark was alive. This was good. This meant that there was still a minuscule fraction of a chance that he could survive this.

Something exploded behind him and the impact sent Loki flying backwards.

Thanos.

Thor.

In a strange disentangled moment of realisation, it occurred to Loki that he had never actually been on the receiving end of Thor's lightning up until now. After the white flash hit, he was no longer capable of moving and there was a short moment of anticipation between the impact and before the pain started.

There was a second of nothing and then electricity stormed through his insides and his veins felt like they were on fire, on fire or going to explode or both.  He couldn’t move, couldn’t cry out in pain or shock, couldn’t do anything but wait for it to stop.

The aftermath of the strike left Loki with the stench of burnt leather and a tender soreness festering at his insides.

When his limbs stopped vibrating and he managed to sit up, Loki turned around only to realise that the lightning had not come from Thor. It couldn't have. Mjolnir was not in either of his hands.

Loki crawled forwards on all fours towards Stark and began to wrap one of the metal hands around a handle of the Tesseract container.

It was entirely involuntary how Loki's eyes flicked upwards towards Thor. Mjolnir was in his fist now but it did him no good. Thor hung upside-down, entrapped within one of Thanos's giant fists, and for all his swinging and all the blows he delivered, he came no closer to freeing himself. Loki's illusion slipped and he was only made aware of it because Thor was staring straight at him, suddenly hopeful. Loki had no doubt that Thor would have shouted out his name if not for Thanos squeezing the life out of him.

_Now._ They had to go _now_.

Any delay would do nothing other than lower their chances.

The hope in Thor's eyes had diminished and there was a desperate hurt weaving with the fear. His eyes begged and pleaded for help, for Loki to just do _something._

Stark's hand was fully wrapped around the handle now and Loki's was around the opposite, but he could do nothing but stare, transfixed.

Then Thor began screaming. It was a horrible sound, a breathless mixture of gasps and wheezes.

Loki scrambled to aim Gungnir, to blast, to fire, to somehow make it all just stop.

Instead, it was Thor's screams that stopped.

Loki's eyes were wide, his mouth open as if to shout for Thor's name but no sound left it. Thanos dropped Thor's body as if it were nothing more than a rag doll.

"THOR!"

Loki tried to surge forward and Thanos turned, almost in slow motion.

"Loki." Thanos dragged out the last syllable and he wore the mockery of a smile. "I see you have finally brought me the Tesseract."

Loki stopped in his tracks. The Tesseract was in plain sight, left with Stark’s hand still wrapped around it.

"And you have arrived just in time to receive your crown," Thanos continued. "No one can say that I do not honour my bargains."

Loki couldn't think. Couldn't speak. Could hardly move.

"Come forward then, Asgardian, Frost Giant, I do not care what you call yourself. Hand the Tesseract to its rightful master in return for your long-awaited coronation."

Loki's fingers tightened around Gungnir’s shaft.

"Have no fear," Thanos said, "I do not punish those who have been loyal to me. Now," he said when Loki still did not move, "hand it–"

The Hulk crashed into the Titan's body. Loki reeled backwards. He made a dive for the Tesseract and grasped its handle and pulled and the Hulk's roar was the last thing he heard.

***

"What– Wh–"

Loki couldn't hear the man's stutters anymore; his ears were filled with the sound of the last of Thor's screams.

The Tesseract slid from Loki's fingers and fell to the floor and Loki's breath came out in rugged raw breaths.

Thor was dead.

It was a fact, yet Loki's mind refused to accept it. Thor had always seemed so invincible, so solid, so alive. Thor would have wanted to die a warrior's death, Loki dimly recalled, yet he was certain that this was not what Thor had in mind. There was no glory in this, no honour, no one left behind that Thor would have saved in an attempt to make his death mean something while he played the self-sacrificing hero.

Loki hadn't realised that his fingernails had been digging into his scalp.

Thor was dead.

And Loki hadn't stopped it.

For once, Loki hadn't started it either. He could have stopped it though, he could have used the Tesseract earlier and grabbed the two of them from Thanos's clutches. No, no, that wouldn't have worked. That couldn't have worked. Thanos would have seen him with the Tesseract, it would have taken longer, and then maybe Thanos would have been able to use the Power Gem to steal the Tesseract for himself. Another Infinity Stone within Thanos's power would be a death sentence for all. He had to have let Thor die. Didn’t he?

How could Thor be dead?

Something hit him in the back of the head. Loki turned around to see Stark fully clad in his armour firing something bright orange at him. It hit his face this time. It had more force than the last impact.

"TAKE ME BACK! TAKE ME BACK!"

Had Stark been yelling the whole time? Loki was unsure. His shouts were background noise against the torrent of his memory currently sweeping away at–

Another blow hit him and it came close jolting him out of his semi-trance-like state. There was something important. Something important he had to remember and do, but Loki could not think beyond the precise expression on Thor's face.

Stark's armour made another protest as damaged joints creaked against each other, and then the man charged towards him and a great metal fist punched him in the stomach.

Loki barely felt it.

"I SAID TAKE ME BACK!"

Loki blinked at Stark through the darkness. Why was he so determined to go back? His friends were dead, the only thing waiting for him on Midgard would be death.

Loki shoved Stark off him and Stark ended up lying in a heap in the snow. Stark barely paused before he was staggering to his feet to launch another attack.

The whirring noises of the machinery rather gave away his intentions. Purely out of reflex, Loki dodged it this time.

"You wish for me to take you back to Midgard?"

Stark flipped up his faceplate and blood poured from a gash in his forehead. His eyes were like steel. “Take. Me. Back."

There was a reason Loki shouldn’t, a reason that if he did Thor’s death, his own death, all of it would have been for nothing. But Loki wasn't sure what it was anymore. Stark was the reason he watched his brother die. He wanted to. He wanted to watch Stark die as if that would somehow bring his brother back to life or justify his death.

"Why?" Loki snarled, unsure of whether he was asking Stark that or himself.

Then Stark unleashed several things from his chest at once which Loki could not identify or dodge all at once. One hit his stomach, another made contact with his shoulder, and when they exploded they left behind a stinging pain.

"Because they need me!"

"He’s _dead!_ All your friends are _dead!"_

Stark shook his head. "No, no, no, no, no. They need me, they need me–" Tears fell down Stark’s face and his voice hitched. "They'll die without me. I can't let him win! I can't let them die while I'm out here!"

Loki didn’t know whether it would be better or worse to live in a similar state of denial.

"Your planet has already lost. Your team is dead." Loki barked out a bitter laugh and revelled in Stark’s pain; it was better than drowning in his own. "There's nothing left on your planet but death."

Stark made to move forwards and one of his legs almost buckled under his weight. His nostrils flared and his glare turned to fire instead of steel.  "I SAID TAKE ME BACK!"

"No," Loki replied curtly.

Stark made a desperate grab for the Tesseract, but his movements had grown slow and feeble and with a single kick, Loki sent Stark landing back in a heap on the snow. Stark spat out blood and clutched a hand to his ribs as he struggled to sit up again.

"No," Loki finally said when Stark failed, "I will not be your aid of transport towards certain death." He tore his eyes from the Tesseract to glance at the fragile pile of human and metal and blood. "I have need of you and I require you to be very much alive."

"Fuck. You. Horns." Stark’s breathing was laboured and more blood seeped from his wound, a river of red running down his face.

Stark attempted to push himself up again by pushing off the snow with his hands but his elbows collapsed underneath him.

"Oh no," Loki said, "believe it or not, no matter how glorious it would be to see you suffer, we are on the same side this time around."

"Like hell we are!" Stark choked out, but his voice was weak and breathless.  

"Listen to me!" Loki’s voice was hoarse. "I have more reason than anyone to see Thanos dead! I will make him suffer for this, even if I have to die to do it!"

"Then where were you?" Stark clutched at his midriff and involuntarily convulsed. "Where were you?" Another convulsion and his eyes rolled back into his head. Loki’s rage ebbed and was replaced by nothingness as he stared, unsure of what action to take. Stark's eyes had lost their usual focus and he gazed up at the night’s sky. "What use are you?" Stark said and his voice trailed off as he sank into unconsciousness.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rocky start gets rockier. 
> 
> Thanks to all of you letting me know you're enjoying this by commenting and leaving kudos!

There was nothing but the echo of Thor's final scream to fill the silence. The betrayal in Thor's eyes would haunt him into the next life, Loki was sure of it. In life, Thor had been idiotic; in death, he had been more so. Why couldn’t Thor just have _listened_ to him? Why had Loki been stupid enough to believe that this time would be any different?

The final moment kept replaying over and over in his mind’s eye. Thor had seen him, his eyes lighting up with hope at the sight of his wayward sibling. Then Loki had done nothing. The panic and hurt were the last emotions he’d see on Thor’s face. It was as if he had been expecting Loki to join him in the futile battle against a being he had no hope of defeating. Had Thor expected Loki to join him in death? No, Loki decided, Thor was merely disappointed that Loki did nothing but watch him die.

Why? Why was Thor's disappointment so unsettling all of a sudden? Not so long ago Loki would have revelled in it, would have delighted in it. It had been so freeing to intentionally cause disappointment and hurt to those who had once claimed to love him.

Something had started twisting like a tangled thread inside of him years ago. That thing grew and grew into huge chaotic knots that no one, not even Odin, could untangle. Maybe Loki letting go of the Bifrost was his only way of letting go of his need to please Odin but it wasn’t until Odin spoke those cruel cruel words: _it is only because of your mother that you are alive_ that the urge to make Odin proud completely came to pass.

Before, Loki would have been outraged, would have let his shock and hurt guide his every move and word, but the revelation that he’d never satisfy Odin had altered him irreversibly. The twisted thing had conclusive evidence that Odin would never give him the same justice as his golden son.

The twisted thing was delighted that Thor went against his own stubborn nature when he finally relented in begging for his not-brother's repentance. _If you betray me I will kill you,_ Thor had promised. The twisted thing found pleasure in that threat but there was another thing mixed with the vindictive joy too: the small lingering ache that not even Thor trusted him anymore. The twisted thing left little space for anything else – until Frigga died, that was.

The twisted thing was quiet now. Maybe it died with Thor.

Thor died believing that Loki was aiding Thanos, that Loki was making true of his promise to bring him the Tesseract. Loki's deal would have been complete. All Thor witnessed was a blue flash and a brief glimpse of Loki with the Tesseract in hand.

In Thor’s last moment it had been so obvious, so apparent, that he’d been desperate to trust Loki again. This time he could have done, he could have done when it came to this. But there had been no time to let him know and so Thor died believing that Loki had one more cruel trick to play, that he had come back from the land of the dead to betray Thor one final time and watch him die.

Was this guilt? Was this regret?

Loki had not felt either of those things when he set about to slaughter the race of Frost Giants, or when numerous humans died as a result of his actions or when he made Thor fall from the floating fortress in the sky.

Why now? Why feel this now when his intentions were by comparison so pure that it almost repulsed him?

Objectively, Thor's death should have changed nothing. Thor was not family. Thor was the one who burned brighter and brighter for no other reason than to cast a larger shadow, Thor was the one who he had wasted years of his life trying to compete with. He should have realised sooner; he could never win by competing for the same goals.

Loki should have been laughing.

Finally, _finally_ , somebody had bested his brother. And Loki had gotten what he wanted, he had snatched Stark away from Thanos with barely a moment to spare.

Loki threw Gungnir down at the rocks on the ground and the collision of metal and stone rang out.

Stark awoke immediately, his eyes flying open and ill-formed shocked noises escaping from his mouth.

Loki glared at the thing who was not his brother, the thing who his brother had to die for in order to be saved.

The thing dared speak.

"What–"

Loki charged at it and slammed it into a rock face, hand pressing down on its throat. Its pulse was a hailstorm of beats and when it tried to open its mouth, no sounds but rasps came out of it. Loki stared into its eyes. It was the reason Thor was dead.

Something made a whirring sound and blasted the hand that had been crushing its neck.

The shock of it stunned Loki a little and he blinked.

It stared up at him and Loki could see the whites of its eyes surrounding the irises.

It changed its stance so that its hands where pointed at him.

It was broken but it was a fighter.

Loki remembered the first day his brother swung a sword, the first day that his brother won a fair fight, the day he made his first kill. There was no reason for Thor to be so intrinsically linked to the thing in front of him but he was. Unjustifiably. Inexplicably.

How could it be standing there in front of him breathing and living and with blood beating through its veins while Thor was dead?

Loki stalked forward, like a predator advancing on its prey. The prey fired its golden shocks at him but Loki was prepared this time and he absorbed the damage without it slowing him down.

He struck out with an arm. The thing tried to fly over his head but it was too slow and Loki had it by the neck again, like an insect caught in a trap.

But there was no satisfaction in it. The edge of the raw fury grew worn by the gnawing instinct that something was wrong.

"Urk!”

The instinct became stronger and Loki’s doubt caused his hand to loosen enough to allow it to breathe.

“Is this what you needed me for?” The thing spat out. “Just to kill me personally?”

It was as if Loki’s hand let go of its own accord and his fury was replaced by complete uncertainty. Had Loki really said he needed it? For a moment, Loki wondered why he would bother to spin such an elaborate lie. Then it came to him. The thing in front of him was the one the Norns said could master the Time Gem – Stark was his means of killing Thanos.  If he could wield the Time Gem, would that mean he could reverse this? Would Stark be able to bring Thor back? Loki could have laughed and screamed all at once. How could he have forgotten how much the Norns liked to mock him? Of course, the creature Thor died for would be the only one who might be able to bring him back.

Loki wiped at his eyes and turned his back upon the man. He had no wishes to see Stark’s face, not when it was an unpleasant reminder of his current reality. The man was infected with mortality. A single loss of temper could result in his death and with it, all hopes of bringing Thor back and seeing his mother again would die.

Instead, Loki carried himself to the edge of the precipice and sat, legs dangling so there was nothing but air between them and the far away ground, staring down the steep drop of the mountainside and snow and acknowledging for the first time which realm he had transported them to.

Jotunheim.

***

Loki had not realised that he had fallen into some sort of stupor until he was jolted out of it by a noise. It was quiet at first but it grew louder and louder and then he was able to identify it. It was the sobbing gasps of a man deep in grief. For a brief glorious moment, Loki didn’t understand where he was or who the noise was coming from and then it dawned on him that it was Stark and Thor was dead.

The realisation knocked the wind out of him like a fist to the stomach.

Something exploded and the ground gave a violent shudder accompanied by the unmistakable rumble of rockfall.

Stark must have been the culprit, Loki concluded with little feeling. But Stark was supposedly his biggest hope of survival, of getting Thor back, of seeing Frigga again, of taking his revenge.

Something inside of Stark – whether that was his mind or his abilities or some fundamental part of his identity – would allow him to wield the Time Gem. Whether or not Stark knew it yet.

The body that contained the mind was disconcertingly fragile. It could die, Loki knew, if it went without substance for a small number of days, if it got too hot or too cold, if it contracted a strange Midgardian disease… The list went on. A flash of an image: Loki hurling Stark's body out of a window, of his hand squeezing Stark's throat.

It would have been so easy.

But then there would have been nothing to wait for but an eternity in Helheim.

Loki picked up Gungnir and walked closer to the man.

Stark didn’t seem to notice.

"Stark," Loki said, his voice cautious.

There was no visible response. Stark’s armour continued whirring and his metal-clad hands clutched desperately at the icy rocks he was sat on.

"Stark?" Loki said again, louder this time.

Nothing.

Loki moved forward until Stark became visible, his body huddled on the floor, quivering with erratic breaths. Loki wondered how many of Stark's friends he had to watch die and had to pause to search for the words to coax Stark into cooperation.

“I know what it looks like,” Loki said quietly, “but it’s not too late for them.”

A wet strangled noise emanated from Stark’s throat.

“Not too late for them?” Stark yelled, his voice cracked and wavering. “Not too late for them? They’re _dead!"_

Stark's metal hands aimed unsteadily at him.

“For now they are,” Loki admitted. “But I wouldn’t recommend doing that.” He nodded to whatever it was that Stark was aiming at him.

Grief was pouring down Stark’s face and his whole body was vibrating with it.

“Really?” Stark spat out between gritted teeth. “I can’t think of a single reason why not.”

“Because I am the only person who can help you bring them back.”

Stark stilled.

“Tell me.”

“I doubt that you’re in a state of mind to believe me. Perhaps–”

“TELL ME!” Stark demanded and he flew, knocking Loki backwards.

“Listen to me!” Loki hissed. “Do you dare think for a _second_ that the loss of your friends even compares to my loss of Thor? Do you? I’d gladly watch you die for not dying in his place if I had not been informed of your role to come!”

Stark’s metal fist crunched into his face.

“You should be on your knees thanking me!” Loki snarled. “If it wasn’t for me you’d be dead along with the rest of them.”

“You had the Tesseract! You could have saved them all!”

“Even if I had the liberty of choice, what reason would I have to–”

Stark’s face was contorted with rage and he launched through the air, hurtling straight towards Loki and hitting him square in the chest.

Loki plummeted in freefall, Gungnir knocked from his grasp.

The wind roared in his ears and the velocity of the fall shook his flesh. If he was screaming, he could not tell because he could hear nothing but the roar of air passing his ears. His hands clutched frantically, trying to find something, anything.

The Tesseract was still on top of the mountain.

Loki decided two things at that moment. The first was that he should have started using Stark’s name as a curse upon first meeting him and the second was that he should have been more accustomed to the utter indignity and ridiculousness of being pushed from great heights by this point, given how much of a regular occurrence it had become.

There was little Loki could do but watch in anticipation as the ground grew nearer and nearer.

Colliding with the ground would not kill him but it was not the ground that was Loki’s primary concern. Loki’s main concern was the coniferous trees that often lined the bottom of Jotun mountain ranges and hillsides. If he was unfortunate enough to have one of the said trees come in between his landing and the ground, then he was certain that the Norns would see a fantastic irony in him dying by being impaled for the second time.

There were dark patches of green below him he could only assume were clusters of trees interspaced with areas of snow between them, and it was impossible to predict exactly where he would land as he plunged downwards.

The ground was closer now; it would only take a few seconds for him to make contact with it.

Loki squeezed his eyes shut.

Something grabbed him by the arm and he was abruptly yanked upwards.

_Stark?_

Then Stark let go and Loki fell into a heap on the snow, gasping for air.

"Now we're more even," Stark said, landing and flipping up his faceplate.

"Is this how you normally treat your saviours?"

"You _abducted_ me, you didn’t _save_ me – all you did was swap which insane supervillain I’d have to deal with. And I don’t know what the hell you want from me but you better get on with it."

Loki's skin was coated in a layer of cold sweat and the rapid beating of his heart from the fall was yet to slow.  

"The Tesseract," Loki croaked. "You have to retrieve the Tesseract." It would take far too long for Loki to walk back up the mountain.

"Right. Because you and the Tesseract were such a good combination last time.”

"I need it. And if you wish to see friends alive again, you need me to have it.”

"You think I’d trust you with that thing?”

"Trust that I have no desire to die. And my continued survival is intrinsically dependant on Thanos dying, which I believe is also within your best interests. The Tesseract is the only leverage we have over him–”

_"We?”_

“Oh, believe me, I like this less than you will. But yes, Stark, there is a 'we'.”

“So let me get this straight. All of a sudden you want to team up with me. You wanna play hero? You really expect me to believe that?”

“Hardly,” Loki scoffed. "I am little more than a self-preserving monster, after all."

"Yeah, I might be able to buy that."

"Will you retrieve it then?"

“Do my eyes look glow-stick-of-destiny blue to you? You're gonna have to give me a decent explanation before I even begin to think about it.”

Loki did not like the idea of revealing too much information with little to gain by doing so. “Are you familiar with the concept of Infinity Gems or Infinity Stones?” Loki asked instead.

“Er – vaguely.”

“Then you are aware that Thanos seeks to master them all, yes?”

“Thor’s briefing was kind of short– Shit! Vision! That’s why–”

“Yes,” Loki said, “the Mind Stone was what drew Thanos to your planet. Now he possesses three of the six Infinity Gems. Already he is almost unstoppable.”

“So cut the chase. Where do you think I come into this?”

“I will warn you of this once, Stark,” Loki said, “I do not take orders. And especially not from the likes of you.”

Stark rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I don’t exactly take orders either.”

“How _audacious_ of you,” Loki said, his voice dripping with mockery, “refusing to listen to a superior being who not only has lived the length of your lifetime tens of times over, has far more intimate knowledge of the enemy than you would ever anticipate, who is the only living being the Norns informed of who is capable of stopping Thanos and how, and who – _ah yes_ –  also happens to be one of those said two people.”

“What – and I’m the other one, is that it?”

“Well, yes.”

Stark snorted. “Why the hell you’d class yourself as a superior being and whoever the fuck the Norns are can wait. What I really wanna know is what your plan is. Use the Tesseract to teleport yourself around and find the missing Infinity Gems before Thanos does and then have your little bad guy versus bad guy face-off? What's it that you want me for?”

“The Time Gem.”

"You want me to help you find some mystical gem,” Stark said flatly. “Because – hey, even if the thing exists – I guess I can see why you’d want it, you’d just be able to go back to before Thanos had the gems, and boom – problem solved.”

Loki blinked. "Yes. That would be the essence of the plan."

"You're fucking insane!” Stark spat.  “Your plan to defeat Thanos revolves around you somehow figuring out time travel."

"Actually," Loki said, "my plan revolves around _you_ figuring out time travel."

Stark gaped. Then spluttered. Then he went into full-blown hysterical laughter.

"Do you… Do you…" Stark wheezed between laughs. "Do you have any idea how long people have been fantasising about inventing time travel? I mean – seriously? I know I'm a genius inventor and I'm very good with my tools but _come on_ – even I couldn't just whip a time machine."

"I appreciate that this is no easy feat," Loki said stiffly.

"Yeah, that's one way of putting it. I don’t even know where we are but even if I was insane enough to trust you – which I'm not, by the way – I don't have my tools. I have no workshop, no electricity, just fucking nothing out here. I can't even repair my suit, let alone invent a time machine."

"If we have the gem you would not be starting from scratch. Perhaps once you master it you will have no need of any such machinery.”

"And you're not going down the DIY route yourself because..."

"Mastering a gem takes an enormous amount of power and energy and time that we do not–"

"Oh no wait – you don't think that you'll be able to do it, do you?"

"What? That is not what I–"

"That's why you're so sure you'll need me. I mean, you must only barely be able to use the Tesseract to teleport or whatever it does because you don't look so healthy after you do it."

Loki glared but it had little effect. "Are you going to retrieve the Tesseract or continue wasting more time? The longer you delay, the worse our chances of bringing them back become."

"What fucking choice do I have? If I go along with it, you've probably got some diabolical plan, but if I don't then I'll never know for sure whether I could–" Tony's voice cracked "– whether I could bring them all back. So I'm left with the fucking wonderful choices of either teaming up with you or waiting until my suit’s heaters lose power and I freeze to death out here.” Stark paused to take in his surroundings. “Speaking of surroundings – where the hell are we?”

“Jotunheim.”

“Right. Sure. That’s another thing I don’t wanna have to deal with right now. You know what? I need a moment. I’m… I’m gonna go get the Tesseract. And not because you want me to. It's because I don’t want anything _worse_ than you finding it. And I’m not handing it over to you. No way.”

“Truly, Stark, your genius astounds me. Not only are you refusing to hand over the Tesseract to a god who could just as easily tear it from your arms as I could tear off your arms, but you are also refusing to allow the only one of the two of us who can actually wield the Tesseract to teleport us away if it becomes necessary.”

“Would you?” Stark asked.

“Would I what?”

“Would you hand over the Tesseract if you were me?”

“Given your situation, I’d at least make the appearance of being compliant.”

“Here you go then,” Stark said, taking exaggerated mocking steps backwards in the snow. “Watch. Here’s me. Making the appearance of complying. I’ll find you when I’m done.”

“I shall be locating Gungnir.”

"Who?"

"The sceptre I dropped after you flung me from the mountaintop, Stark." 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chapter in which Loki is really not a nice person. More so than usual. But on a side-note, there will be actual teamwork happening eventually, I promise.

Loki stared at the footprints he left behind in the snow, circling around in meandering lines and leaving impure imprints in his wake. It felt strange to have weight, to leave something behind as proof of his existence. How could he still exist without Thor? He had never known life without Thor, and everything that Thor was shaped him into the monster that he had become. Thor had created the stirring need inside of him to prove that he was more than a little brother, more than a child who tagged along with his sibling, more than a nameless character in his brother's heroic tales. The more Loki tried to shine, the more Thor's shadow overcast until there was no option left but to combat Thor's brightness with a shadow of his own making. Loki was the shadow that Thor cast. Loki was Thor's polar opposite, and the more heroic the deeds his brother accomplished, the more terrible Loki made his own deeds.

What was a shadow without a source of light?

What was an object without an orbit?

Was Loki cursed to wander throughout the universe with no contrast, no source of comparison, nothing to strive to separate himself from?

Gungnir lay flat on the snow with a light scattering of flakes over the top of it and Loki picked it up with hesitant fingers. It was his now. He should not hesitate to take it. His fingers clasped more firmly around it and he turned to look for the metallic red and gold in midst of the blue and grey spectrum of Jotunheim.

There. It was the bright blue glow of the Tesseract underneath one of Stark’s arms that gave him away more than anything else.

Stark lay pitifully in the snow. Perhaps he thought that if he encased himself within armour for long enough, he too would become nothing more than a shell of unfeeling metal. Alas, the universe was not so forgiving.

"Pathetic," Loki spat once he reached Stark. It made no difference who it was directed at whether himself or Stark. "You can't remain there. The Jotuns will see you.” Stark didn’t move. “Wonderful. Not only is the only man supposedly capable of assisting me to destroy Thanos prone to flinging me off mountaintops, but he’s also highly likely to end up inadvertently killing himself before he gets the chance to."

"You think _you_ have it bad? Are you kidding me? I’m not only stuck with the bitchy brat who went ahead and tried to take over my entire planet that one time, but I’m also stuck with the guy who could have saved everyone I ever cared about but didn’t!”

"Irrelevant."

"Every person I have ever known could be dead by now and that's all you have to say? Irrelevant? You think that an entire race of people is irrelevant compared to you saving your own scrawny ass?"

"I barely had time to save _you!_ Do you think if I had a single second to spare Thor wouldn’t be here right now?”

Stark’s shoulders slumped with exhaustion. “I just don’t know! I don’t know what to fucking do.”

“If we get the Time Gem we can bring Thor back, bring everyone back. Reverse time, reverse what happened, revive them."

"That's one hell of a big _if_."

"It is."

Tony laughed, high pitched and uncertain. "My best bet to save the universe is to bank on an insane alien with a serious god complex who's somehow got it into his head that I can just go ahead and build a time machine. How fucked is the universe?"

Loki pressed his lips together. "The sooner you accept that small odds are better than no odds, the sooner we can begin putting our plans–"

"–your plans you mean–"

"–into action."

"Go on then," Stark said. "What's your plan? Your short-term plan. Because right now we're in the middle of a frozen wasteland and some of those Yetins–"

"–Jotuns–"

"–have probably seen me flying around. I wasn't going for subtlety. A warning would’ve been useful."

“Do excuse me for not having the time to warn you of your visibility before you proceeded to throw me off a mountaintop.”

“You had how many hours when you could have at least _mentioned_ them?”

“As I recall you were hardly in the mood to listen when–”

“Me? _I_ was the one not in the mood? Who was the one who went full-on psycho and tried to strangle me?”

“I stopped! I stopped myself!”

“Yeah.” Stark snorted. “Only because you remembered that you think you need me.”

"You have hardly proved yourself a worthy companion–"

"HA! A worthy companion!" Stark burst into peals of laughter, tears gathering in his eyes. "That’s a good one. I think I'm losing my mind already. Maybe that's why you're so funny all of a sudden."

"Hush. We must either leave or find shelter before anyone sees us. If they see me, they'll most likely aim to kill me on sight and I can only guess what they would do to you should they capture you. And that's the least of our troubles. If they realise we have the Tesseract, when Thanos comes he will have our trail and–"

"Yeah, I get it. Not good for us. Especially me. I’m stranded on an alien planet with an alien who everyone wants dead – which reminds me – what happened to you _staying_ dead? And more to the point, now that I’ve had more time to think about it – why the hell would I believe anything that comes out of your mouth?”

“As happy as I am to hear that your cognitive abilities appear to be functioning, we really do not have time for this.”

“Then _make_ the time because we are doing this. Now the shock’s wearing off, I’m starting to think that even _beginning_ to believe you was a bad call. You do illusions, right? For all I know, every single thing I saw could've just been you. If you magicked Thanos up somehow – not that I’m admitting magic is a thing – and just made me _think_ everyone died so I’d go along with everything and eventually make you a time machine… Big flaw there, by the way – might be overestimating me a bit. Which isn't something I admit often.”

For the first time, Stark was grinning. His voice was filled with a triumphant giddiness and Loki couldn’t quite figure out why it churned his stomach so sickeningly until he realised that Stark was just as desperate as him. The only difference was that Stark’s denial had warped his mind so much that it had fabricated its own convenient fiction, whereas Loki’s mind couldn’t help but fixate on the absolute truth of what had happened.  Loki had never been so acutely aware of envying a mortal before.

“But you underestimated me too because you never thought I’d figure it out, did you?” Stark took great delight in taunting. “So all I need to do is figure out how to break the illusion and get back.” Stark struck the ground with a fist and stared at the snow as if expecting it to vanish. “Huh, feels solid enough. You must have actually teleported me then – so that means everything else before this planet was just you fucking with my head…”

Loki’s throat was tight.

“I wish that was true.”

Stark snorted.

“Like you’d have any remorse if it was. Like you’d care if Thanos wiped out the human race. What loss would it be to you?”

“My brother.” Loki’s voice cracked.

Something in Stark’s expression changed and his triumphant grin lost to the beginnings of doubt.

The sight of something moving through the trees was enough to disturb them from their impasse. The Frost Giants must have been coming for some time but Loki had been too distracted by having to deal with Stark to notice and they were too far away and too obscured by the branches for Loki to be able to estimate their number.

"Now look what you've done!" Loki hissed. "Quick – the Frost Giants must have seen you. Hand over the Tesseract and I can–"

“Bit convenient, isn’t it, that the exact minute I start to suspect, a big distraction happens?” Stark commented conversationally, taking a step backwards and holding the Tesseract behind him. “Oh no!” Stark had injected false horror into his manner of speech and held a hand to his mouth. “The illusionary monsters are coming so now I have no choice but to give you the Tesseract!” Stark marked the end of his playact with a smirk. “It’s not gonna be that easy to get me to play me.”

Loki unleashed a growl of frustration.

The sounds of feet on snow and the prowling of some sort of creature grew louder.

"Why are you so determined to get us both _killed?"_

“Drop the act. The only danger around here is me because now I’m just _really_ pissed off.”

“Do you honestly believe that I could not have retrieved the Tesseract from the mountaintop by myself if I wanted it?”

“The Tesseract isn’t your end game.”

Loki made a move to snatch the Tesseract but instead of side-stepping, Stark flew upwards and out of reach.

The Frost Giants were so close that their voices were audible.

“Impressive,” Stark called down, “didn’t know you could do full surround-sound audio effects.”

“I can’t,” Loki said with loathing and made a gesture with his hand that vanished both himself and Stark from sight. “Stark,” Loki hissed to thin air, “we _must_ leave.”

“Stop whatever mind-fuckery you’re doing and I’ll give you a headstart, how’s that sound?”

“Listen to me! None of this is false! Do you truly think illusions can feel solid?”

“You don’t have to illusion _everything_ though, do you? Only enough to augment reality so all of it only _seems_ real.”

Before Loki could reply, a Frost Giant emerged into plain sight over the other side of the clearing. It was far away enough for it not to hear them, but close enough to catch sight of the footprints in the snow that Loki had overlooked. No doubt it would call its fellow monster’s attention to it.

Loki _had_ to convince Stark. And quickly. But what could he possibly say that would be even halfway convincing? The answer was nothing. Stark wouldn’t accept the truth for no more logical reason than he didn’t want to, and if Loki openly denied that he had deceived Stark then it would be instantly perceived as a lie. Loki would have to re-prioritise so that his immediate concern would be the two of them escaping the attention of the Frost Giants rather than convincing Stark of the truth. The truth could wait – the Frost Giants on the other hand...

“The Frost Giants are no conjuration of mine. You’ll find that they are _very_ solid and _very_ hostile. Whatever you might believe I have done, it will not harm you to choose a guaranteed safe option. Evade them. Don’t lose track of where I am. And–”

Loki was cut off by the impact of colossal-sized paws colliding with his back and he landed with his face in the snow.

“Ah,” a deep voice rumbled from close behind him. “And there’s the other one.”

Loki pushed his head upwards to see that the distraction had cost the two of them their invisibility.

The Frost Giants surrounded them and they were not alone. They came with two beasts, two colossally sized wolf-like creatures with hungry hungry snarls.

One blast of Gungnir dealt with the beast that had knocked him over. Its rider came at him but Loki dodged to one side and took it by surprise by leaping on to its back, one hand clutching at its furs and the other conjuring a dagger.

The Frost Giants weren’t used to their enemies being able to come within such a close proximity without freezing and Loki intended to use that to his advantage.  But before his dagger found its neck, the Frost Giant grabbed at his arm and propelled him forwards over its shoulder.

Loki landed on his feet this time. Then there were two of him, four of him, eight of him, all mirroring each of movement Loki made.

“Sorcery,” one of the Frost Giants growled.  

Loki ran towards it and the other mirror Lokis scattered in different directions, each heading for a different target. He conjured fake daggers and projected them outwards so that each Loki threw out several blades as well. Only one dagger he threw was real but it hit his target, wedging itself deep in an artery in the giant’s neck.

Loki retrieved his dagger. Only another five of his illusions remained but even the Frost Giants were able to figure out the illusions only needed to be touched to be dispelled.

One of the giant's eyes followed him and it must have deduced that only the original would be able to retrieve a solid object. Ice formations grew from each arm, a sharp scythe on one and a spiked club on the other. It sprinted towards him, faster and more agile than a creature of its size had any right to be.

Loki promptly vanished and the giant’s charge dwindled in its confusion.

Gungnir had had sufficient time to rekindle its energy since its last blast, so he took aim and the giant fell.

The group of giants came to a pause, unsure about how to proceed. It seemed that Loki had been distracting enough to make them forget that there had been more than one intruder upon their realm. He had an ally – at least, he was _supposed_ to have an ally. Whether or not Stark was actually an ally was another matter, but Loki only had time for a quick sweep of the sky before leaping back into action when he failed to catch a glimpse of Stark.

Loki ran amidst the giants unseen, slashing and flinging knives where he might and conjuring brief flickering illusions of himself and blades to keep the giants confused. There were so many footprints in the snow that it made it almost impossible to distinguish his from the rest.

It was an effective tactic but was very draining of both his magic and his physical exertion. Half of his daggers were wasted because the giants’ leathers were so thick.

One of them made a grab for him as he passed but he managed to twist himself free of its grasp before it seized him properly and the moment was so short that his skin retained its usual colour.

By Loki’s count, there were approximately eleven left.

It would be a long process of assassinating them from afar one by one until either he ran out of daggers or they ran out of numbers. He would rather have saved himself the energy and cost of his magic by slinking away into the trees, but if he did that then he might end up losing Stark for good. And speaking of Stark – where was he? Loki had glimpsed a flash of something that could have been one of Stark's blasts hitting one of the giants, but it had happened too quickly for him to be certain.  

Another one of the daggers left his hand and a giant collapsed over the other side of the clearing, its blood spilling out onto the snow.

Another blast left Gungnir and hit its target.

The snow was getting very red.

Loki raised an arm to summon another dagger but then there was a sharp twinge of pain on the opposite side and something had seized his arm. Gungnir fell from his fingertips and he reflexly tried to wrestle his arm back but it only caused the sharpness to dig further into his arm.

Those somethings were teeth, Loki realised numbly, and they were dragging him from the outskirts and into the centre of the Frost Giants.

He hadn’t realised there had been more than one of their creatures.

He tried to conjure a blade to his left hand but nothing came. He must have used all his daggers.

One of the giants ran over to grab him roughly by the other arm. Loki struggled and fought and tried to thrash his way out of their grasp to no avail.  Another approached and seized his wrists together behind his back and the beast released his flesh from its jaws to bare its teeth in his face instead.

It shouldn't have been a relief that the giant was touching him over his armour only but it was, just as seeing Stark finally make his appearance shouldn't have been a relief but was.

Stark walked in from somewhere behind the trees and held up his hands in an offering of peace.

Loki’s initial relief was very short-lived because in one of his hands, Stark held the Tesseract.  

_Of all the races to show a magical blue glowing cube to_ , Loki thought in despair.

"You want this guy gone?" Stark said, pointing to Loki and Loki’s previous relief vanished. He was not able to discern through Stark's faceplate what his intentions were. Had Stark decided they were allies or was Stark intent on seeing him suffer further? The Frost Giants stared at Stark, their faces stoic and revealing nothing. "I want the same thing as you. I'm gonna do you guys a favour and get him off-planet. If you'll let me."

"He has killed several of our number. He is an intruder who must be punished for his crimes."

"Trust me," Stark said, "he'll end up suffering for his crimes one way or another. Now – er, can I just..." Stark picked his way through the outer mass of the giants and moved to stand in front of the two that had a hold of Loki.

One of the giants that had seized Loki responded. "And why would we hold any value to your word? You are as much of an intruder as he is. If Asgard has so little regard for the terms of our treaty then we shall no longer continue to hold our ends of the bargain."

"Treaty?" Stark asked.

"He's not Asgardian," Loki said to them. "He has not broken any treaty."

One of the giants made a scoffing noise low in its throat. "Convenient."

"No," Loki insisted, "he is of Midgard. Look at his armour, listen to the manner in which he speaks and come to your own conclusion if you have the slightest capacity to make a reasonable deduction."

Stark lifted up his faceplate. "Yeah, hi. Earth-person here."

The giants looked at each other in wordless communication.

"If this is true then you, Midgardian, have committed no crimes against Jotunheim and are free to make your own way."

"No can do. Apparently," Stark said, directing a nod at Loki, "I need him."

Ally it was then.

"This one is ours," one of the giants grunted.

How he wished those words held less truth.

Stark sighed.

"I get it. More than you probably realise, I get it. You know, I'd probably do the same thing as you but you're not giving me many choices here. I was hoping I wouldn't have to do this. Watch this." A blast shot out of the palm of his hand and harmlessly hit the snow. “Now watch this. Do your worst, Friday.” There were three blasts this time, all shooting out at different trajectories and colliding with three adjacent trees. "Now imagine that but instead I ask Friday to target all of you at once instead." Silence. "I don't wanna have to do that. Believe it or not, whether you survive who's coming depends on this guy right here being free or not. Tell you what – when we're done you can have him. He'll be all yours. But right now you've got to let him go."

Loki held his breath, hardly daring to believe that the giants might for even a second contemplate–

One of them made a throwing gesture with its hand and a fist-sized ball of ice shot out and narrowly missed colliding with Stark’s head.

“Take it that’s a no then.”

Loki waited for the blasts but they didn’t come. _Do it_ , Loki urged silently, _do it and we can make our escape_.  

“Alright, guess you called my bluff–”

Another ball of ice shot out and hit Stark's forehead where it was still bruised and cut and beginning to swell. Stark hit the floor upon impact and Loki's hopes collapsed along with him.

***

Seeing the Tesseract in the hands of the Frost Giants sickened Loki almost as much of the thought of them touching him.

Using Stark as a hostage, they’d demanded Loki should remove his armour which they had claimed for themselves, along with Gungnir. His armour and Stark's armour were a part of the same pile kept in the arms of a Frost Giant, and the soft materials of Loki’s base-layers left him feeling very conscious of his new vulnerability.

They’d touched his things – his helmet, the Tesseract, Gungnir – with such casualness and callousness that he’d had to restrain himself from hurling insults at them.

He didn't. He had a distinct impression that shouting would only gain him a gag and Loki had no desire to be restrained any further than he already was. One piece of rope would be problematic enough but two was excessive. One secured his hands together and the other wrapped around his and Stark's torsos so they were forced to sit back-to-back on the back of the wolf-like beast pet of the Jotuns.

The beast liked Loki less than he liked it. It was nothing like a horse, although the Frost Giants used it like one. It seemed to deliberately move in such a way to make its spine shift uncomfortably beneath him and it growled and raised its hackles whenever Loki contemplated using his bound wrists to strangle it by the neck.

But whatever the creature was, it was obedient. However much it might have wanted to snap at them and knock their weight off, it didn't.

Stark was a deadweight but at least he was breathing. At the beginning of their journey, Stark would gradually loll further and further off to one side until Loki would have to attempt to recenter him by pulling his own weight against the rope to ensure that Stark would not cause them both to fall off, only for the process to have to be repeated again moments later.

Loki felt Stark stir behind him.

"Stark?"

He hadn’t much hope for Stark waking up so soon.

Stark's head moved again.

"Stark?"

"Mfft?"

"I'd recommend waking up."

"What?"

Good. Stark was conscious to hear exactly how displeased Loki was with him.

"It may shortly come to your attention that we have been captured."

Stark bolted upright and the movement caused the rope wrapped around Loki's torso to tighten.

" _What?"_

"Your little stunt with not handing over the Tesseract has resulted in the Frost Giants capturing us and tying us up on the back of their pet monster."

"Shit."

"Indeed. Well done."

"Right. Because that was _all_ my fault."

Loki would have given a pointed glare, but given that they were forced to face opposite directions, it would have served little purpose. Loki was forced to glower at the top of the beast’s head instead. “You completely disregarded everything I told you!"

"You killed _how many_ of them?"

"You refused to so much as compromise when you started doubting whether the Frost Giants were real or not!"

"You kidnapped me and teleported us to the middle of their planet!"

"I had thought–" Loki broke off. What had he thought? Why had he chosen Jotunheim of all the realms to escape to? He supposed that given his history with it, it would be one of the last places Thanos would think to find him. "I had thought there might have been clues here," Loki opted for instead. It wasn't the truth but it wasn't exactly a lie either. It made sense the more he thought about it; during Loki's search for evidence of Infinity Gems, Jotunheim was the only realms he had neglected to research adequately.

"You might have given me a warning. You know, maybe don't whiz around the sky carrying bright glowing objects because it might attract someone's attention, that kind of thing."

"I hadn't thought to be your wet-nurse, Stark."

"Because giving me one single warning about what to expect on a planet I've never to been to is asking way too much. Have you forgotten I've never even left Earth before? You know if you actually _asked_ me to help you–"

"QUIET!" one of the Frost Giants to the side of them bellowed.

They settled back into the routine of doing their best to ignore each other’s existence and fell back in with the rhythm of the beast’s movement as it paced.

Their route took them up winding paths and down through valleys until the landscape became more and more barren. The snow on the ground became ice and they had to divert from the path to avoid a huge gaping chasm than ran for miles and miles. The wound to the realm was so deep that the bottom of it was not visible to the eye and once they passed the crater, cracks cut through the Frost Giants’ needle-like buildings and settlements without discrimination.

The Frost Giants walked beside them in solemn silence.

For a moment, Loki wondered whether the possibility of the planet opening up to swallow more of its surface should be something else to be concerned about. Then it occurred to him that it wouldn’t happen because he’d done this. This was his work with the Bifrost, not some freak display of nature.   

It was odd to see tangible evidence that a single being, no, not just any being – _himself_ _–_ could cause such destruction on such a large scale.

No one spoke until they had travelled past it and the only thing distracting Loki from the laceration he had inflicted were the sporadic shudders that ran down Stark's back and every so often, the unnecessary twitches or rolling of the shoulders against his own.

"The only thing that possibly make this any worse," Loki seethed in a whisper, "is being tied back-to-back with someone _incapable_ of sitting still."

As if to irritate him, Stark's shivers began to come more regularly, sending tickling vibrations down his back.

_Weak._

"Hey!" Stark raised his voice to address the Jotuns. "You guys want me alive, right?"

"Stark?" Loki questioned under his breath. "What do you think you are _doing?"_

Stark ignored him.

"You want to find out how I got here, what I have to do with him, and what the Tesseract is, don't you?" The Frost Giants did not verbally respond, but a number had looked to Stark with expressions that were not overt malice. "Which means you'll want to question us. Alive. And I wasn't lying when I said I'm from Earth – that's Midgard to you – and where I’m from we're just not that accustomed to the cold.” Unsurprisingly, the Frost Giants did not appear sympathetic. “Hypothermia isn’t ideal if you want me alive. And I’d prefer to avoid frostbite. I like having all my fingers.”

The Frost Giant who dared command silence from them nodded to another who then removed the furs that covered its back and approached.

"Thanks," Stark said to it shortly after it disappeared from Loki’s viewpoint. "And while you're here, can you tell me what happened to my suit?"

Rather than replying, the giant slumped off.

"Trying to appeal to their better nature is futile," Loki advised.

"It got me warmth."

" _Almost_ always futile," Loki corrected

"What about my suit?"

"They have it as well as my own armour within their possession," Loki explained as Stark wouldn’t be able to see for himself from his viewpoint.

Stark's spine grew stiff. "How'd they get me out? Did they damage it?"

"They managed to dismantle it by activating some sort of mechanism that caused your armour to unfold."

"What? They shouldn't have been able to do that. I guess my security must've got damaged pretty bad."

The next segment of their journey consisted of Stark inadvertently proving how futile trying to reason with the Frost Giants was by him insisting that they were actually there to save people. It sounded far-fetched and outlandish even to Loki’s ears, and it eventually resulted in Stark receiving threats of a gag. And then when Stark still did not receive the hint, it resulted in an actual gag. Loki supposed it had been inevitable.

Loki complied with the Frost Giants’ request of silence not out of fear of being reprimanded, but because he saw little point in either attempting to persuade them or attempting to communicate a plan to Stark. Neither of them were at liberty to so much as attempt an escape and even if they were, the Frost Giants were well within hearing range and would no doubt overhear their plans before they were able to enact them.  

Besides, escaping would mean that they'd be separated from the Tesseract.

Appearing to be compliant prisoners would make escaping with the Tesseract easier later on, or so he hoped. At least the Frost Giants were unlikely to watch him continuously when they reached their destination. Their prisons would be much weaker than Asgard's, Loki reasoned, and far more primitive. Their realm had no core to draw its power from, not with the Casket of Ancient Winters taken, and so there would be no energy barriers to stop him, only physical matter and other Frost Giants who got in his way.

When Loki no longer had multiple Frost Giants watching his every move it'd be easy.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The tied back-to-back trope is one of my favourites - we've got The Emperor's New Groove, Brienne and Jaime's storyline, and uh... That's all I can think of right now. It's a short list but I stand by it being a good trope.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Could it be... the beginnings of an actual attempt at teamwork?

Perhaps it wouldn't be so easy.

The Frost Giants hadn't seen fit to free them of their ropes, even after bundling the two of them into a cell. Loki supposed that it might have been flattering, how much they must have feared the risk he posed even when behind locked bars.

At least the Jotuns had not deemed it fit to starve them.

Two bowls of soup had been pushed through a hatch and then himself and Stark had to go through the tedium of attempting to coordinate their shuffling across the floor in order to get to the said food. The liquid was warm and salty and Loki was tempted to leave his bowl full out of spite and would have done, had his stomach not had other ideas.

Their cell was dismal.

The floor and walls consisted of uneven chiselled pieces of rock, as if the Frost Giants had mined the underground hollow and then neglected to bother making it the slightest bit hospitable.  There were two windows high up, thick slabs of opaque ice that allowed blue and violet-tinted light to filter through, the only light to enter the cell.

Two buckets sat innocuously enough at either side of the cell but Loki desperately did not want to acknowledge them. Even in Asgard's cells, he hadn't been forced to degrade himself quite so much. Feeling something alarmingly akin to nostalgia for Asgard’s cells was a new low point and Loki despised himself for it. He blamed his unwanted introspection on Stark’s uncharacteristic silence, so quiet that it might have been easy to forget his presence if not for the light shaking of Stark’s body. Due to the Frost Giants allowing Stark to keep the furs they had given him, Loki suspected that the shakes might have had little to do with the cold but he saw little point in commenting on it.

"Are we just going to not talk about it?" Stark asked, the sound of his voice making Loki jump.

"Not talk about what?" Surely, Stark was not about to acknowledge what Loki had left unsaid.

"How much we fucked up."

Of course not.

_"We?"_

"Yes, _we,_ " Stark emphasised.

"You appear to have vastly underestimated the size of your role in getting us captured."

"Nope – I know exactly how much I fucked up, thanks. I had very good reasons for fucking up but it's kind of irrelevant at this point because we're here now, partially because of me. And yeah, I admit it, it might be mostly because of me, but you’re partially responsible too."

"Assigning blame hardly matters at this point."

"Exactly. That's my point – or that was going to be my point. If we had a single good reason to trust each other, we wouldn’t be locked up right now. And I’m not saying we have to be best buddies and send each other Christmas cards. I’m just saying that not cooperating with each other is going to make this Thanos thing so much harder than it already is. So if we want to go through with your batshit crazy plan because it’s the only one we’ve got then we need to fix that. Somehow."

_Somehow indeed._

"I suppose this is an improvement upon you accusing me of fabricating this entire fiasco," Loki allowed, privately adding, _although being tied up together in a Jotun cell is not._

Loki should have been angrier, should have been furious that the cost of getting Stark to finally believe him had come at the cost of their freedom. But Loki was too exhausted to deny that he wouldn’t have believed himself in Stark’s situation.

"I fucked up. What more do you want me to say?"

Loki doubted whether there was anything else Stark could have said, not that he wanted to admit it. An apology was hardly useful, particularly in their given situation, but at least an admission of fault meant there was recognition for the need of change. At least, that was a philosophy Frigga futilely endeavoured to install into Loki. _A true king admits his faults,_  she had told him. But Stark was no king, Stark was a mere Midgardian mortal man who never had the burden of ruling a kingdom. No, Loki realised, only the burden of ridding the universe of Thanos with himself as his only ally.  

"A plan of escape would be nice," Loki replied, half in jest.

Stark's huff of laughter was barely audible but Loki could feel it more through the movement of his back.

"Yeah, a guy can dream. Makes me wish I still had Mark 42, I could just flash my hands and… Or I could if my hands weren’t all tied up. You got anything up your sleeve?"

"I have no more daggers to summon. The only weapons I have left to me are my illusions and my wits."

"You're the guy who managed to break out of a cell designed to contain _the_ _Hulk_ without breaking a sweat. If you can do that, Houdiniing your way out of this one should be a cakewalk."

Loki neglected to mention how much his escape had been aided by his bright blue-eyed subjects.

The Frost Giants were hardly renowned for their intellect, the only reason they had succeeded in capturing them was because of catching them off guard and vastly outnumbering them.

"If by that you mean escape then I am confident that my escape – _our_ escape – will be inevitable."

Of course, the Frost Giants wouldn't waste their resources keeping the two of them locked up indefinitely. Loki and Stark would leave the prison one way or another: dead or alive.

"Good. Because the only plan that springs to mind is spending the next few days trying to rub through the rope using the rock around here. And that sounds tedious and not nearly enough Silence of the Lambs enough for your taste."

"A more elegant solution would be preferable," Loki said. Whatever they decided, they would have to act fast. "If you would allow me to concentrate..."

To Stark's credit, he was able to fall into a (somewhat brief) silence in order to allow Loki to plot. Unfortunately, what he was not able to do was sit still. Muscles would twitch and flex in his back whenever he fidgeted, hairs would tickle the back of Loki’s neck, and Stark appeared to find the idea of sitting straight inherently uncomfortable. It was maddening. Completely infuriating. But there was more at stake here than a loss of temper.

Getting captured by the Frost Giants like that had been at best humiliating and at worst potentially disastrous, but worse things could still happen yet. _Worse things have already happened_  Loki's mind whispered, _or have you forgotten so soon?_

Stark reached his limit and broke the quiet that had fallen between them.

“Who are the guys who got us anyway?”

“Frost Giants,” Loki answered curtly.

“Elaboration would kind of be helpful here.”

“They’re of a large size and are fond of the cold.”

“Funnily enough, I managed to work that one out myself. The name’s a bit of a giveaway. So... Backstory? I’m assuming there’s a backstory. Help me out here. Maybe if I know more I could actually come up with something.”

Loki let out a sigh.

“Fine. The Frost Giants are an ancient race who have the ability to manifest weapons of ice at will. They are neither forgetful nor forgiving. The Aesir don’t venture here for a reason; not only is it exceedingly dangerous, but it’s also against the laws of both realms and considered a breach of the peace treaty.”

“You guys don’t get along then.”

Loki scowled at the wall straight ahead of him. “How astute of you.”

Stark shrugged. “Just trying to find out as much as possible about my captors. Never know what details might be useful.”

“The Aesir and the Frost Giants have a long and blooded history–”

“–er, is that on both sides, because historically–”

“The Frost Giants are a race that needs to be kept under control. If their numbers get too high, they’re a risk to the rest of the Nine Realms.”

“How?”

Loki should have come to terms with how ignorant a Midgardian would be regarding the rest of the Nine Realms sooner.  

“They wage war and destruction wherever they go.”

“So do you, buddy.”

“Do not presume to compare me to them!”

“Yeesh. Just calling out hypocrisy when I see it.” Stark waited for a response but he wasn’t granted one and so he spoke up again. “So that’s why they would have let me go if I hadn’t, you know, threatened them. Because I’m not from Asgard.”

“Yes. But they have seen too much already. The sceptre I carried was...somewhat recognisable. And the same can be said for my armour. There are some here who may recognise my face.”

“Please don’t tell me you tried to pull the same shit here as you did on Earth.”

“I didn’t.” _It was worse._

“So on a scale of one to ten, how futile would it be if I attempted to persuade a guard?” Stark took Loki’s silence as a confirmation of a no.  “Bribe a guard?” Another no. “Befriend a guard?”

“You assume too much with your presumption that they so much as _have_ a concept of friendship.”

“So trying to negotiate with them or come up with an agreement is out according to you?”

“It would be a waste of time. We have nothing they want. Aside from my head removed from my shoulders, that is.”

“Your head still looks pretty firmly attached to your neck to me.”

“Yes,” Loki curved his lips upwards bitterly, “because they have yet to figure out my true identity.”

“From now on I’ll just assume that every race has a reason to want to behead you.”

“Well,” Loki sighed, “you would not be wrong, for the most part.”

“Awesome. Anything else I should know?”

“Yes,” Loki said, ideas having inadvertently been spurred by thoughts of his own true identity. “I believe I have the beginnings of a plan.”

The ropes were the first priority. They needed to be off. But the ropes had a thick radius and were sturdily made. There was a solution to that problem – it was just a shame how repulsive that idea was.

Irrationally, Loki found himself grateful that Stark would be facing the opposite direction.

“I’m all ears,” Stark said.

"I need a Frost Giant to touch me."

_“What?_

***

After having to push back against each other to stand up and position themselves against the wall, it was a waiting game.

The whole front side of the cells were barred, allowing any creature outside to see inside the whole interior of the cell. If one such creature was to pass their cell, they'd see one of the prisoners overpowering the other and repeatedly ramming the other backwards into the wall. And if they were to attempt to subjugate the prisoners so that one did not kill the other, they would find that their touches would pass straight through the prisoners. Of course, the touch of the real prisoners would not pass straight through whichever of the Jotun guards happened to enter.

Loki had little knowledge of where their cell was relative to the interior of the prison. The cells they had passed had been empty when they were first marched inside, and the layout of the passages was complex, with multiple twists and turn-offs in the underground system leading away into darkness. The true size of the prison was unknown to them, as was how many Frost Giants it contained, whether it be guards or other prisoners.

They’d have to improvise.

The first aspect of the plan followed as well as they had hoped. Stark's halfway convincing shouts of pain had drawn the attention of guards and two of them entered the cell, locking the door behind them before venturing further.

What exactly the Frost Giants would do to put an end to their apparent fighting, Loki had not been able to anticipate. Wrenching them apart would be impossible with the rope that bound them and removing the rope so that they could separate them would be idiotic, even for the Frost Giants.

It transpired that their solution was to freeze Loki.

Fortunately for Loki, it was the illusion of himself that received the brunt of it.

Loki took advantage of the temporary confusion, gritted his teeth, and encircled the smaller one's neck with his wrists. The rope that bound his hands together pressed against its throat and as he did so, the base of his hands touched its skin. Its skin was like polished granite, cold and polished and unyielding.

Loki didn't look down. He couldn't afford to look down, not when every second might have mattered so much.

The Frost Giant managed to let out a hoarse cry for help.

Loki's skin was crawling with blue.

The sooner he managed to break free of the rope, the sooner he could let go. Then Loki pushed – not with his strength or with any of his limbs, but with something else that felt like a relation of his magic, something not quite the same but not entirely unfamiliar.

Ice erupted from his hands. It formed a shard between his palms and shot downwards to break through his wrist binds and then he pointed the shard like the tip of a knife against the Frost Giant's throat.

The guard remained still, its breaths coming out in short gasps.

But the remaining guard had seen him.

_A pity_ , Loki thought. He discovered that the Frost Giant made a rather good shield. It was large enough to cover both himself and Stark if he forced it to, and it took the brunt of the blast of freezing cold that the other guard directed at them with its fingertips.

The guard circled around to get a direct shot at Loki. It didn't – Loki had turned with it so that the trapped guard was still between them. Stark stumbled slightly as Loki turned, enough to slow them down but not enough to unbalance them.

Loki and the guard were at an impasse but it was unlikely to last for long.

Loki pushed again and the rope that bound himself and Stark together split in two and there was a flurry of movement behind him that must have been Stark untangling them.

Loki shifted his grip so that his other hand was clutching at the armour the giant was wearing instead of its skin and warmth began to flood back through his veins. The blade felt cold now, like it would melt in his hands if he held it for too long.

"Stop where you are," the free guard commanded but its voice lacked authority.

"I think not," Loki replied.

The guard moved again but Loki, now unburdened with having another person tied to his back, was able to keep up with him with little effort.

With Stark armourless, it was a fight of two against one and Loki did not like those odds. There was nothing for it. He’d have to kill them both, starting with cutting the throat of the one in his arms first. The thought made him blanch – he didn't want its blood to touch him.

The guard did not attack with the Jotun between them, but it made no effort to escape or call out for more help. The other guards must have been too far away.

"Tie yourself up," Stark ordered the guard who was rounding on them. _Has Stark lost all his sanity?_ Loki wondered. "Do it and your buddy here will live."

Loki gritted his teeth in frustration. The Frost Giants were hardly a sentimental race, Stark was only wasting–

To Loki's surprise, the guard complied.

"Good," Stark said, overseeing it as it wrapped a piece of the rope around its ankles. "Once you’re both tied, we’re heading out. So do us a favour and stay quiet. That knot needs to be tighter by the way."

Stark was too close for Loki's liking. One touch from the Frost Giant and he'd be frozen still or impaled with ice or worse. He should have warned him not to touch the Frost Giants – that was another oversight.

"Wrists next," Stark prompted, moving closer towards it.

Loki drew the tip flat against the throat of the Frost Giant within his grasp, close enough to draw blood.

"I've got a better idea," Loki interrupted before Stark got any closer. “You tie up his wrists," Loki commanded the Jotun with the blade at its neck. It obeyed, eyes wide and filled with a naked display of fear that Loki had never seen before on one of their faces. "Hand over the keys. Not to me, to him," Loki directed, nodding at Stark. It did, fingers shaking. "Good," Loki said and drew the arm holding the blade back.

The Frost Giant opened its mouth and its eyes widened. They were wide and very very red. It visibly gulped. “Please – please don’t.”

Its voice had been higher pitched than Loki expected.

“Loki, you don’t have to kill him,” Stark urged. ”He's just a kid – look at him. You could knock him out, take him with us to show us where we want to go, even use him as a hostage if you have to – just don’t kill him.”

“I’ll do whatever you want,” the Frost Giant begged, eyes frantic, “just let me live.”

“He might be able to show us where the Tesseract is.” Stark spoke almost just as desperately, as if the Jotun’s life actually meant something to him.

“I need a guarantee that it will stay quiet,” Loki said after a moment’s pause.

"I'll stay quiet," it insisted, speaking so rapidly that there was barely any pause between its words, "I'll do whatever you want."

"I’m glad to hear it," Loki said after a moment of hesitation and led it with him to crouch on the floor in front of the other guard. "Unlock the door, would you, Stark?"

Loki turned his back on Stark and forced a hand on the other Frost Giant, closing his eyes to the blue that must have been seeping into his skin. Slowly, he let the cold trickle out of his fingertips and accumulate on the lips of both the Frost Giants, building layer upon layer of sheets of ice over their mouths. They squirmed under his grip and tried to protest but Loki continued.

Loki stood up and waited for his skin to return normal before he headed to the door, one hand clutching the younger guard’s leather and the other pointing the blade at the guard’s spine, not so much encouraging it forwards as he was giving it no other option other than impalement.

“What the hell did you just do?” Stark demanded once he had the door open.

“There is not enough time to explain. This one here is going to lead us.” He pushed the Frost Giant forward and hissed in its ear. “Try to trick us and I will kill you in the most painful and creative way I can think of. Now – the Tesseract.”

The Frost Giant made frantic gestures with its hands.

“I don’t think he knows what you mean, Loki.”

Loki sighed. "It was the bright blue glowing cube that was brought in along with us."

A light of understanding appeared on its face. It nodded a little and led them off in a direction to the right. Even through the fabric of the sleeve Loki used to hold the blade, it was so cold it hurt to grip and a drop of water ran down Loki’s wrist.

The passages were quiet, with only the mutterings of prisoners inside of their cells and the scampering of snow rats penetrating the eerie silence.

They proceeded further, taking another right and then a left that led them deeper underground. It was more difficult to navigate than Loki had anticipated so perhaps Stark had made a sound decision regarding using the Jotun as a tool to lead them to the Tesseract.

Lanterns were placed high up on the walls but they were unlike any lanterns Loki had seen before. The flames were shades of white and pale blue and lilac and he could have sworn they emitted coldness instead of heat.

After so long heading further downwards, they were finally led through passages that had an upwards ascent. The roofing began to lower and every so often Loki would have to weave around icicles that hung from the ceiling.

When they heard the echoes of voices, Loki began to suspect foul play and he whirled the Jotun around and pulled it into an empty passage off to one side. The Frost Giant stumbled and its footsteps echoed off the walls. Loki yanked the creature out of sight and Stark joined them in hiding.

“Vildmund?”  A voice called. Then it was joined by more voices, all calling the same name. The guards' wait for a reply stretched into silence.

Approaching footsteps, slow and quiet. The guards were on alert. Loki pressed the ice shard deeper against the Frost Giant's back and felt his hand becoming wetter but couldn’t discern whether it was from water or blood after he had rendered the three of them invisible.  

Then everything happened at once.

The guards – how many guards were there? – lurched into view, one with an ice mace extruded from one of its arms, another with a great club of ice, another with a spear. But there were more coming from behind them – how many, Loki could not tell. The passage was too narrow down their side and even if they remained invisible, the guards would surely run into them.

Without warning, a spike of ice shot out of the back of the Jotun in Loki’s grasp and pierced through his shoulder. Loki should have predicted it, should have foreseen that the creature would inevitably give them away, that it would lash out the moment it could, but it happened too quickly and he’d been too distracted by the rest of the Jotuns.

The Jotun launched itself away before the pain registered, producing more spikes from its fingers, using them to break away the sheet of ice over its mouth as it increased the distance between them.

“They're over there!” it shouted, pointing wildly at Loki and Stark.

The hole in Loki’s shoulder ached so violently that was difficult to move. Blood trickled down his chest and he clutched a hand to the wound.

The one with the mace ran forwards, weapon raised. The other one was not so far behind it.   

“They have knowledge about the cube,” the younger one attested, eyes flickering to Stark.

A solid arm seized Loki by the waist and pulled him further back, forcing him to move. Stark didn't have the strength to carry all of Loki’s weight, but Loki was able to lean on him and stagger.

They didn’t make it halfway down the passage.


	9. Chapter 9

Loki awoke to a pounding headache and shooting pains in his shoulder.

After careful prodding, he found tender bruising on his skull and a strange herbal smelling paste spread over his mostly healed shoulder wound.

He was alone in his cell this time.

There was little else but the pain and lingering memories of the sensation of being at one with the ice.

Loki crawled towards his cell door, peering out into the ominously empty hall. “Stark?” he called, but it took just another glance to realise that the rest of the cells in the passage were empty.

The only answer he got was his own echo.

***

Three Frost Giants waited for Loki’s answer from outside the bars of his cell door. As far as Loki was concerned, they could keep waiting.

“Who are you?” they asked again. Loki sat, back against the wall and turned away from them, making sure they couldn't see his face.

Softer footsteps approached.

“You saw him. He’s one of us,” the newcomer said.

“I am _not_ like you!” Loki had not intended to retaliate but the words burst out of his mouth with such a ferocity that they brought him to his feet, yelling in the faces of the giants.

"Interesting." The newcomer looked Loki up and down. "But I suspect that’s not the complete truth. I heard you have a grasp of cryomancy and that your skin was as blue as our own. But you wear a disguise – the skin of an Aesir. That makes you not one of us; no Frost Giant would voluntarily disgrace themselves like that.”

Loki pressed his lips together to keep himself from screaming at them again.

“Your amateur ice play was the only real thing about you.” The giant moved closer towards the bars. “We’ve been analysing the items we took from you and they’ve led to some very interesting conclusions. We know your name as your companion ever so helpfully used it in front of us. We know you have ties with Asgard, and we know that a number of items within your possession could only have been acquired by a select few.” He cocked his head to one side thoughtfully. “It makes me wonder what you were hoping to accomplish here. Were you hoping to finish off what the Allfather started with the Bifrost?”

Loki would have laughed in delight at their misunderstanding if it wasn’t for his fury.

“What is the blue cube?” it asked.  “Is it a weapon? Were you sent here to use it against us? How many has the Allfather commanded you slay? Who is your companion? Why do you travel with a Midgardian?”

Loki closed his eyes but when he opened them they were all still standing there.

The Frost Giant nodded at the others and when they disbanded it moved even closer, so close that its face was almost touching the bars.

“I remember your face from the last time the Aesir came to start a war.” The Frost Giant’s voice was less gruff than the rest but Loki did not recognise it in return. As they made eye contact, the giant placed a hand over the cell bars in a strange perversion of a gentle-looking gesture. “I know who you are. You are Loki, Prince of Asgard. There’s little point in denying it, the evidence is stacked high against you. In consideration of your inadvertent reveal of your true nature, I must admit that I find myself rather intrigued. Who are your true parents? We know that you and Odin do not share the same blood – not unless Odin’s greatest secret is that he himself is a Jotun.” The giant gave a wry smile of amusement.

Loki squeezed his eyes shut but he could still sense it there, observing him with unnerving calm.

“Assuming Odin did inform you of your true bloodline, of course,” the Jotun added.

He wouldn’t hear its words, Loki decided. He’d ignore it, he’d will it out of existence, he wouldn’t allow such a lowly creature to toy with his temper like that.

How desperate he was for it to be that easy.

“I’d prefer it if you voluntarily gave us an answer. Neither of us would much like the alternative.”

Loki’s eyes opened slowly. “And what would be alternative be?”

“Well, we know that you are a valuable and not to mention a most _mysterious_ hostage. Your companion, on the other hand, we have no recognition for.”

“I assure you,” Loki said, “that he happens to be highly valuable.”

“We thought you might claim that. But we were hoping for some truth – a name isn’t too much to ask.”

Loki tilted his head upwards and met its gaze, fighting back the phantom taste of bile. “And if I don’t find myself feeling quite so generous?”

“There’s no need to look like that. We have no intention to harm him – we’re not monsters you know.”

_No. We’re all monsters_.

A scoff erupted from Loki’s throat, a retort that held no trace of humour.

“You’ve spent too long in Asgard.” The Frost Giant’s impassive mask broke when it sneered. “Did they disguise you or is it a disguise of your own doing, illusionist?” it asked and Loki didn’t answer, couldn’t answer. “Do you even know yourself?”

Loki turned his back on the creature. He couldn’t afford it seeing his face, it would reveal far too much.

When Loki was able to breathe steadily again, he turned around and picked at the grime under his fingernails in a display of forced nonchalance.

“You have strange methods of interrogation,” Loki observed out loud. “Most use the tactic of giving their subjects something to gain by giving answers. I would have thought you would have started to see why by now.”

“Perhaps so. But I am sure you will understand why I chose this method soon enough. Are you going to answer my question?”

“You should be more specific. After all, you did ask several of them and I wouldn’t want to go answering the wrong one, would I?”

It remained stoic, entirely unphased by Loki’s sarcasm.

“Who is your father?”

“I,” Loki hissed, punctuating each word with a step forward, “don’t have one.”

They met gazes, Loki’s hands clenching the bars, and the Frost Giant looked him up and down with mock astonishment.

“Then you must bestow upon the rest of us the secret of existing without having to be conceived!” The giant dropped the charade. “The truth now. Who is your father?” He waited for a response but it was clear that he was not getting one, “I tried,” he sighed eventually, “to let you tell me voluntarily.”

Quickly, far too quickly, the giant reached through the bars and seized one of Loki’s wrists. Its grip was strong and blue seeped out and spread like an infection down Loki’s arm.

Loki wrenched his arm back but the giant was too strong and its fingers dug into his skin.

The giant stared intently at his face. “I had to see for myself when I heard about you. A Jotun wearing the skin of an Asgardian, dressed in regal armour and carrying Gungnir within his possession...” Loki was too busy frantically struggling to listen to it. “I assume you know as little about your own heritage as you do about our race, so allow me to explain: I am not doing this out of needless cruelty. The markings on our faces and bodies are as distinctive as the fingerprints that the Aesir have. Each bloodline has its own unique signature, if you will, its own shape that distinguishes it from the rest. The sigil of the mothers’ bloodline down our right side and our fathers’ down the left.”

The blue was rapidly creeping up Loki’s shoulder.

They waited. Loki had frozen and he stared helplessly while the blue advanced past his shoulders and made its way down his other arm.

It was a long time before either of them spoke

“We have a match,” the Jotun murmured, half dazed.

“What?” Loki’s voice was weak.

“I realised that you fit a very specific profile but I did not want to set myself up for disappointment. It has been a number of centuries since my little brother went missing, after all. We assumed you had died.” The Giant's lips twisted upwards. “But you’re alive and you’re here. You would have been too young to remember me but you called me Byle – your infant tongue couldn’t quite get the grasp of Byleistr.”

“Little brother?” Loki echoed, dazed.

“Are you telling me that after knowing you were adopted, it comes as such a surprise to learn that you have another family?”

It was all Loki could do but blink, stunned.

“This wasn’t how I imagined our reunion,” Byleistr said abruptly. “But I cannot set you free simply because we have the same blood. My honour, as the Prince of Jotunheim, is bound to my people first.” He finally took pity, letting go of his wrist, and they both watched as the blue faded once more to white. “It pains me but it is obvious that you have no care for us, you who so vehemently rejects your true form and who slew numerous Frost Giants upon your capture. I need to know what you and your companion are plotting.”

Even with the blue gone, Loki could still feel it lurking under the surface of his skin, waiting.   

“I have no cares for your claim nor your race. But," Loki let out a small laugh, "believe it or not – we came here to save us all.” Not that Loki would have held a care if Thanos destroyed the Frost Giants.

Byleistr scrutinised his face. “That’s quite a bold claim you have.”

“It’s the truth.”

“Do you have a way of verifying that? Do not mistake me, under other circumstances I would have loved to have welcomed my little brother home. But I am no fool – I will not let that blind me. I have no clue as to your true intentions. I know that we are of the same blood but that does not mean that we know each other as brothers do.”

"I'm _not_ your brother!"

Perhaps it was unwise to so vehemently remind Byleistr of that. Perhaps Loki could have used it. Too late, it occurred to him that his anger had overridden his rationality.  

"You were," Byleistr murmured, his mouth tilting downwards.

_No – Thor was_.

Then Byleistr appeared to remember himself. He dropped his hand and held himself straighter.

"Reverting back to your claim of intending to save...all of us, was it? Killing six Frost Giants who did you little harm seems like an unusual choice of action to take for someone with such noble intentions. That won't be good for you. And you’ll need to gather proof of your intentions. It'll be useful for your upcoming trial."

_Trial?_ _The Jotuns give their prisoners trials?_

“I..." Loki began. "It would take me summoning the Three Sisters to prove my claims.”

"That's unfortunate. You'll need another angle if you wish to have a solid line of defence – preferably one that can actually be attested to. Does the cube play into this?”

Loki went rigid. “It is imperative that you do not let any harm come to it.”

“And why is that?”

“The cube has… certain properties.” Loki chose his words carefully. He didn’t want them to touch it, he didn’t want them to know what it truly was. “And a will of its own. If meddled with in ways that it doesn’t appreciate, it will cause chaos and destruction that could bring what remains of your cities to crumble."

"If I didn’t know better,” Byleistr said, almost conversationally, “I’d accuse you of trying to steer us away from the cube.”

“I confess it: I am. But that doesn't mean that I am lying. You have no way of verifying the truth without testing the theory yourself – but that would be incredibly reckless and an unnecessary risk, resulting in many tragedies for your realm.”

“Then tell me how to avoid the cube causing tragedies.”

“The answer is simple enough: avoid the cube.”

“Avoid one of the few pieces of tangible evidence we have?”

“Your curiosity isn’t worth the risk.”

Byleistr let out a huff of breath that was neither amused nor angry. “My curiosity has little to do with the situation. If you are telling the truth about saving us all, then we must assume there is a threat and take action against it.  Likewise, if you are lying to us then we must take action against the threat – which would be you – accordingly. Either way, our realm faces threat and we need to prepare. It’s trying to establish what action in accordance that proves difficult.”

“I can imagine.” There was little sympathy in Loki’s voice.

“It would be so much easier if I could trust you.” Byleistr sighed.

Loki felt his stomach drop and then there was Thor, Thor standing outside of his cell and wishing with such weariness, _I wish I could trust you_. Thor’s words echoed around his skull, over and over.

“You can this once,” Loki promised, ”but never again."

***

Three more days had passed. There had been no word either from or about Stark, and Loki could not say that he felt any significant improvements with his attempts to persuade Byleistr to trust him so that he could make his escape.

The talent required to earn the title of a silver-tongued lie-smith was both a blessing and a curse; his talents lent themselves well to persuading others of falsehoods, but rarely persuading others of the truth.

Still, luck was not entirely against him. There was somebody with enough reason to want to believe him and that often made them considerably more pliable to persuasion. Yet with Byleistr, it only seemed to make him more hesitant. He had voiced that his own biases severely impaired his judgement and yet he still assigned himself to visiting Loki every day due to his irrational desire to connect with those who he believed shared the same blood.

The topic of their past appeared more often than Loki liked.

“I don’t even have the same name as the brother you remember," Loki had told him on one occasion, and Byleistr had told him that names only held meaning to those that gave meaning to them. Byleistr was the sort to think himself wise and if Loki hadn't met Laufey, he would have assumed Byleistr was quoting his father. Perhaps it was the mother, whoever she was. Loki didn't care.

Loki fed Byleistr titbits of information about the Tesseract in return for information about his trial. He had to choose what information he revealed very carefully; too much and they would want the Tesseract for themselves, too little and they’d never believe him.

“The longer you spend dithering around the legitimacy of my trustworthiness, the further Thanos advances.”

“I know,” Byleistr replied.

Loki raised an eyebrow. Did that mean Byleistr believed him?

“I need to be certain,” Byleistr elaborated.

“And how will you achieve that? Apparently, my words aren’t good enough.”

“I’ve got a bargain I’d like to propose.”

Loki turned to face him. “Go on.” It wasn't as if another bargain could possibly be any more complicated than the one that brought him back from the dead.

“You might like this.”

“Then tell me.”

“If we send away the cube, we potentially bring about the destruction of our own realm if your claims about Thanos’s plans are true. If we allow you to carry out whatever plans you have, we may bring about the destruction of our own realm because of your own bias against our kind. We neither have enough time for me to teach you that we are not the monsters you think we are or for you to prove your true intent.”

_Interesting premise_.

“Do continue.”

“We have four things of yours that you want.”

“Four?” Loki asked, frowning.

“The cube, Gungnir, the armour, and the Stark man. And you have something of ours we want,” Byleistr continued, “but it is not here. I assume it’s locked up inside of Asgard's vaults.”

_Ah._

“The Casket of Ancient Winters.”

They would have him bring them to Asgard just like last time. Did the Jotuns learn nothing? It was the same plot, all over again. Or was this a trap? Had Laufey said nothing of the plot before it had killed him?

“Based on what you’ve told us about the cube, I assume that you can use it somehow to manipulate the Bifrost." _Wrong_. But better that than knowing it was space itself that the Tesseract manipulated. "Stark and your – or is it Odin’s? – sceptre will remain here. If you agree, we will not allow you to leave with the cube alone. I will go with you, along with my most trusted associates. In that case, if you intend to use the cube to destroy us, we at least have a chance of stopping you.  If we do not all return alive, my people will destroy your possessions and you will face your sentence. If we return alive with the casket then you may have your other possessions back and we shall free you and your companion without a trial.”

“Without a trial?”

“There would be no need for your, as you have been so fond of calling it, 'doomed' trial. Returning the casket would more than compensate for the harm you have done us.”

Loki wondered if he would make the same claim if he knew it was Loki who turned the power of the Bifrost to Jotunheim.

“What happens if one of your associates does not return through no fault of my own?”

“As I have said, we will destroy your possessions and you will face your sentence.”

“You would kill Stark? A man who has done you no harm – a man who has even spoken and acted out against killing your kind? I thought you said you weren’t the monsters I thought you were.”

Byleistr’s lips grew taut.

“We do not kill our own kind. I do not relish the thought of Stark having to die, but his life is part of the insurance we need to guarantee the future survival of our race.”

Freedom never did come simply. They would have him betray Asgard in a way he had never done before, they would have him lead them to the heart of what Asgard guarded the most fiercely and take all they wanted. And Loki could not kill them for it, not until they were freed. Loki would have relished refusing Byleistr – no, not just Byleistr, the whole race of Frost Giants – but it would do them no good. This was the quickest route to freedom. The Frost Giants would never grant him his freedom otherwise, and they had grown blind to his illusions during Loki’s numerous attempts to win his freedom back. Either Loki would fail and all would be lost, or they would walk free. It would be a gamble, a roll of the dice. But if Loki _did_ return to Asgard at least he would have the chance to say a final goodbye in the vaults before either all hope was lost or he and Stark would begin their quest.

“I mislike a certain one of your clauses,” Loki said finally.

Byleistr held up his hands. “What else am I to do? Without that clause, you could transport us to instant death, you could kill us the moment we leave our home, you could leave us locked up in the cells of Asgard.”

Loki would have loved to be at such liberty.

“I see you are not going to be persuaded otherwise.”

“No,” Byleistr said, “I am not.”

“Very well,” Loki sighed in resignation. “Those are the full terms?”

“Almost. After we’ve activated the cube we shall have until nightfall to return before action will be taken."

“And I suppose this is the best offer I will receive?”

“It is the _only_ offer you will receive. Oh, and Loki – I should warn you that we have not forgotten your domain over illusionary magic. My people will thoroughly check that I am indeed myself.”

“Guarantee that your people will not harm me and I will accept your terms.”

“Done. So long as you do hold your end of the bargain, no Jotun is permitted to harm you.” Byleistr smiled. “My advisors will not be as pleased as I am. They believe this to be a foolhardy plan.”

“Your advisors sound wise.”

Byleistr laughed but quickly sobered once more.

“They are. We have not forgotten that the last time some of our number were led into Asgard they were slaughtered. We will not disregard the possibility of betrayal this time.”

“Neither will I, for that matter.” Loki had no guarantee that the Jotuns would allow him to walk free after they reclaimed the casket for themselves, nothing apart from their promises. Promises were unreliable and were far too easily broken. “Betray me and the Jotun blood I have spilt previously will seem like nothing more than a minor tip of a drinking glass.”

“What reason would we have to betray you? Unlike Asgard, we are not in the habit of executing our prisoners, and it would be far easier to keep you imprisoned here than risk breaking into Asgard’s vaults with you. Are you trying to dissuade me? Once a deal is made, it is final.”

“Perhaps I’m dabbling more in honest conversations,” Loki remarked offhandedly.

Byleistr's red eyes glinted with something. Loki would have called cautious fondness if it had been on the face of any other being.

“You’re not how I remember you,” Byleistr said after a long moment.

“I don’t remember you at all.”

"I had the most naive notion that I would recognise my long-lost brother the instant we met eyes," Byleistr admitted.

_I'm not your brother_ , Loki thought fiercely. Although maybe he had been once, long before he became himself, before he was developed enough to even have thoughts of his own. He didn't trust himself to speak, not when he needed Byleistr to _want_ to keep his end of the bargain.

“Brothers and strangers are not mutually exclusive," Byleistr said. "I hope we can become more than strangers. More than that; I hope I can trust you. I hope that we can trust each other.”

Thor had wished to trust him too and Loki could not forgive him for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates will probably be once a week instead of twice from now on because I don't want to spam the frostiron tag too much - also it gives me more time to edit/rewrite the later chapters so there's that. 
> 
> In other news, Infinity War is impending and it's getting harder and harder to pretend it isn't happening.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I believe the last chapter contained the last scene beta-read by the wonderful [EmuSam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmuSam/pseuds/EmuSam). Credit is due. I just wanted to give my extra thanks for discussing time travel theories with me, sharing theories and ideas I would have never thought of, helping shape this story into something so much better than what I started with and their interest and questions making me want to further up my game.

Lying to Byleistr was not quite the same as lying to most people. Byleistr sought information regarding the small details but failed to gain an oversight of the larger picture. For instance, Byleistr questioned everything about their route, how many guards they were likely to encounter, what illusion Loki would place over them and how they would escape if the plan failed, but he made the assumption that Heimdall would be at his post, that Odin still sat the throne, and that finding the casket amongst all the other relics would be easy.

Loki was not about to correct Byleistr's mistakes and inform the Jotuns of exactly how vulnerable Asgard was. Instead, he made no mention of the wards that would have faded when the Allfather froze. What he did mention, however, was how the defence of Asgard's vaults was centred around preventing people from breaching the entrances rather than appearing in the middle of the vaults. It was for that reason that breaking into the vaults would be the simplest part, assuming luck was on their side that and only a few guards would be patrolling the interior. However, the accompanying party of six Jotuns added complications; Loki had only ever used the Tesseract to teleport two people at one given time before and he suspected that the extra strain would cause the effects of teleporting to be worse than usual.

And they were.

It knocked the breath out of Loki and caused him to keel over with the mind-numbing agony of it.

He could not say how long he was stood like that, hunched over in pain with unvoiced screams on his lips, but once the worse had passed and he could form coherent thoughts again, it brought him some satisfaction to note that the other Jotuns had fared much worse than he had. By the time Loki had straightened up, two of the Jotuns were lying on the floor, fingernails scraping against their scalps, biting their lips to keep from crying out.

Byleistr placed the Tesseract in his satchel and offered a hand to pull the Jotuns still regaining their breath up from the floor to their feet and when the entirety of the group was upright, Loki cloaked them with invisibility.  He hadn't offered the Jotuns the same courtesy the last time they followed him into Asgard but his motivations had been somewhat altered since.

Keeping six – no, seven including himself – large and unfamiliar forms invisible was costly to his magic. It was depleting more rapidly than he would have liked. Disguising or concealing a singular object was not too difficult, but making the object or person disappear from sight altogether was another matter, particularly when there were several at once. Only once Loki had briefly scouted ahead to check whether any of Asgard’s guards were a concern did he let the invisibility fall.

It was no mistake when Loki claimed ignorance of the casket's precise location; he had been earnest in his unsaid desire to say a goodbye while he was here. And for that, he needed to visit the Basin of Souls.  

"Is there a system for how the relics are stored?" Byleistr enquired once the full scope of the sheer amount of artefacts began to hit him.

"That would be far too logical," Loki replied.

"Then we should quicken our search by splitting the party to search separate isles," Byleistr concluded. Upon seeing Loki's surprise, he added, "Not you, Loki. For obvious reasons it would be unwise to separate from you."

Despite his lack of surprise, Loki’s temper burned underneath his skin. He wanted his visit unsupervised, he couldn’t let the Frost Giants see him vulnerable and he wouldn’t betray Thor by bringing him the Frost Giant who claimed to be his brother before so much as a moon phase had passed since Thor’s death.

"I suspect that it may be this way," Loki said stiffly, leading Byleistr and his two accompanying Frost Giants in a direction to the left while the others headed down an aisle in the opposite direction.

"Asgard would benefit greatly from having a numerical system," Byleistr commented as if he – a Frost Giant – had unique insight to offer on the subject.  

“Perhaps it is a strategy to keep our enemies from stealing specific relics from us,” Loki responded dryly.

"You know as well as we do that it was _Asgard_ who stole the casket from us."

Loki did not deign to answer. The Basin of Souls had come into view, sitting underneath shelves and shelves of miniature bottles and antiquities.

As Byleistr and the two remaining Frost Giants began to scour through the piles and piles of items in the aisle, Loki took the opportunity to send a decoy to search nearby and made his way towards the basin.

It was stone, with the bowl standing on the neck of a carving of the world's tree, the branches opening and spreading out towards the brim to signify that the souls within it were beyond the reach of the Yggdrasil, like leaves flying upwards in a breeze.

Loki had been forbidden from going near it as a child but that hadn't stopped him; it had only piqued his curiosity and made his visits more covert. Even so, he had been careful. Very careful. He never touched the water, he only watched the surface ripple as the forms of the souls waiting for Odin's verdict grew restless.

Loki gripped the brim and leant close to the surface. The water level was higher than he remembered ever seeing it, the obsidian giving the illusion of the base being a dark bottomless void. The souls were anything but dark; they darted this way and that, leaving glowing tendrils in their wake. They were forms of colour, each soul like a drop of ink spreading through a liquid, but upon closer inspection, the forms were not as ambiguous as they first appeared. It was a type of pareidolia; similarly to how clouds often bore a resemblance to shapes, the forms had faces.

Loki had been so sure he'd be able to identify Thor immediately. Thor's colours wouldn’t be anything but red and gold.

"Thor?" Loki whispered, too desperate to feel foolish.

The souls stirred, dashing deeper down and scattering like a disturbed school of fish.  

It wasn't fair. If the Frost Giants broke their word then Loki wouldn't have the means to return with Gungnir. This was most likely his last chance to see Thor, to say a final farewell. He could have made his mother happy – he could have made them _both_ happy. And for selfish reasons he would have said something, anything to alleviate the guilt that ate away at him. He'd let Thor die; Thor deserved to know why. Thor deserved to know that Loki hadn't betrayed him in the end, that Loki had been trying to fix it, trying to fix everything.

_And look where that got me_.

Loki would have promised Thor that he'd pay Thanos his dues and he would have meant every word of it.

Except that he couldn't find Thor.

He heard a cry from somewhere behind him but ignored it.

He had to find Thor. He had to tell him–

"The casket," Byleistr breathed from somewhere behind Loki. One of the Frost Giants had returned with it in hand. They weren't supposed to find it so quickly, Loki had banked on having more time. "Loki, come and look at this."

Loki's fingers twitched.

But Thor wasn’t there. Loki doubted he would find any other answers in the water and so it was only with the utmost reluctance that Loki complied, merging with his double.

“Is this it? The Casket of Ancient Winters…” Byleistr’s voice was filled with such a sense of wonder that it filled Loki with dread. Byleistr didn't wait for an answer. The blue was a darker tone than that of the Tesseract's, richer and deeper. Dark clouds stirred within it like the container encapsulated a portion of Jotunheim's sky. "It's beautiful," Byleistr breathed. "More beautiful than I remember."

_No Jotun should be allowed to touch it_ , Loki thought. He'd betrayed each and every family member but nothing – not the treason, not the lies, not the breaking of Asgard's laws – had felt like truly betraying Asgard up until now.

_This is no betrayal_ , Loki was forced to remind himself. Allowing the Jotuns to reclaim the casket could make all the difference to Asgard's survival if they let him go free. _This is to save them. To save us all._

Byleistr's voice dropped and he murmured something inaudible to one of his companions before raising his voice. "Loki – we must go."

Loki didn't want to leave. He needed to find Thor. Until the council or whoever controlled Asgard ordered something else to be forged, without Gungnir there would be nothing to direct the souls to their next plane of existence. Something must have happened to Thor. The Soul Gem, Loki realised, feeling sick.  _Thanos could have_ _–_

"Loki?"

Loki shook himself out of his trance.

Later. He’d need to figure out the puzzle later.

"Of course," Loki replied. He had intended to keep his voice level but even to his own ears, it sounded strained.

The nausea grew at the sight of the one who claimed to be his brother being alive and whole and intact when his true brother’s soul – the very core of Thor’s being – was inexplicably gone.

The nausea burned to anger.

As Loki made his way back, he made a movement so fast that it went entirely unregistered. The Jotuns were too mesmerised by the casket to pay him much mind and so long as they thought he would do their bidding they would not notice him slipping an arrow tip from the shelf into the palm of his hand.

The smallest weapons were the easiest to overlook.

Loki handled it with care, careful not to let it draw his own blood.

"Are you ready?" Byleistr asked when Loki reached him.

"Oh, yes."

"Good. We need to find the others before we depart."

They headed back in the opposite direction, Loki surrounded on all sides by giants. Byleistr strode next to him and Loki used the natural movement of swinging his arms as a disguise to scratch the surface of Byleistr's arm with the tip.

It was only a light scratch but it would be enough. And better still, the Frost Giants would not realise what had happened until Loki was gone.

"My apologies," Loki said, frowning at his nails as if they were the culprits.

"No matter."

"Wait!" It was the Frost Giant who had located the casket. Loki hadn't recognised her as a female but when he examined her face he saw that clues were there. Without warning, she hit the top of Loki's hand and the arrow tip fell from his fingers to the floor. Her hand shot up and she pointed a blade of ice at his throat, echoing a movement so strikingly similar to Sif that it would have made Loki laugh in any other circumstance.

"I have kept my end of the bargain." Loki reminded them."You did not specify that I couldn't retrieve items from the vault if I so wished. _I_ am not the one breaching on breaking the terms of the bargain." He turned to Byleistr. "You gave your word that your people would not harm me."

"And they won't as long as you keep your end of the bargain." Byleistr nodded to the one who held the blade to his throat. "It is unsafe to remain here. We will deal with this when we return."

The giantess scowled and her arm moved a fraction. Whether it was to relent or attack, Loki would never know because whatever movement she might have made was interrupted by the more startling revelation that they were surrounded by approximately fifteen of Asgard's guards, all with swords drawn and shields in position.

Within a fraction of a second, each of the Jotuns formed weapons of ice at will.

“By order of the king–” a guard began to declare.

“What king?” Loki scoffed.

“We hereby shall confine you to Asgard’s dungeons for trespassing and attempted thievery. Resist and we give no guarantee of your life. Drop your weapons and we shall ensure your survival.”

Loki would rather not fight them if he had to, not when the guards were doing nothing more protecting Asgard. Instead of fighting, Loki chose to use his words and for once, it was not as weapons.

"Is this how you repay those that prevent Asgard's vaults from being stolen from?" Loki demanded.

The guards hesitated and after a short delay one of them called out, "We know how much your word is worth, Loki Lie-smith. Apparently, even your own death was a lie."

"What sort of way is that to address your king?" Loki asked. The guards momentarily hesitated and Loki allowed himself a laugh of delight. "By rights, the throne has fallen to me now, has it not?"

Byleistr let out a chuckle.

“You stop your cackling." The commander of the guards turned back to Loki. "Whatever claim you might have was annulled when the Allfather sentenced you as Loki Laufeyson. Now, surrender your weapons. All of you."

Byleistr laughed again and jerked his head at his hands. "You cannot expect us to drop our limbs at will."

The commander regarded him coldly. "Ice melts. Someone fetch some torches."

Byleistr's face paled and he delicately placed his satchel on the ground and the giantess followed suit with the casket.

The commander must have identified Byleistr as the leader of the Jotuns because he beckoned Byleistr to move towards him. When Byleistr did not, the swords drew closer. Then Byleistr obeyed, his arms returned to normal.

Loki stared. He hadn't anticipated that move. Frost Giants were hardly known for being compliant creatures. Byleistr would have been better off fighting, even if some of his companions closer to the swords would have lost their lives for it.

Then the remaining two Frost Giants who had searched a separate aisle made their appearance. They emerged from behind, clubbing a number of guards who remained oblivious to their presence before the rest noticed.

Loki sprang into action, making a dive for the Tesseract and clutching at the three remaining Jotuns as he did.

Another one of the guards let out a warning as he did so but it was too late – they were gone.

***

The last thing Loki had expected was returning with something alarmingly close to willingness. Incidentally, his return was the last thing the guards had expected too.

He could have left all the Jotuns all to Asgard's guards. He could have made a dive for the Tesseract and taken his chances finding Gungnir and Stark and his armour all by himself. He would have had to fight more Jotuns along the way, but with their prince gone the realm would surely be in disarray.  Loki would have the means to escape in the same strike as ridding the Frost Giants of their beloved casket. It would have been almost perfect if his odds of success were higher.

And yet...

Loki blamed his recklessness on being caged for too long. It was a prettier lie than the need for survival.

He appeared back in the vault, crouched in a ready position. He was farther ahead than where he had been before and the bright light of his reappearance alerted the entirety of the room to his presence.

He sent another three Loki's running out, each in a separate direction. One to Byleistr, another to weave around the guards, and another to appear to assist with the fighting Jotuns.

Loki himself went for the casket. He ducked and dodged in order to not give away that he was solid, and when he seized the casket he stored it away in his pocket dimension, preferring not to think about the last time he had held it.

The rest was easy.

The guards couldn't predict where he would reappear and given that Loki had at some point during his life visited almost every point in the room, he had free reign of the entirety of the vaults.

He returned the last remaining companions of Byleistr's in another move and then when he came back for Byleistr, he hesitated long enough before leaving that one of the Asgardians had time to spit, "Traitor!"

The last words they heard from Loki before he disappeared once more were, "I suppose it does seem that way, doesn't it?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The whole Basin of Souls thing is not in any way part of Norse mythology or Marvel (as far as I am aware) for those of you who might be wondering. In fact, those of you who have watched Scooby Doo the movie may find that the concept sounds kind of familiar... Inspiration comes from unexpected places.


	11. Chapter 11

After Loki handed over the Casket of Ancient Winters, Byleistr granted him everything he said he would.

Loki could not help but be astonished. He had half expected something to go terribly wrong, for the Frost Giants to take the casket and then leave Loki to rot in his cell.

Stark, Loki had noticed, must have had his injuries healed. He was waiting outside the entrance to the vault the Jotun’s used to store their prisoner’s belongings while Loki put his armour on again.

Byleistr had sent the remaining Jotuns away and stood fidgeting with his hands.

"Loki..." Byleistr began. "Before you go, I want to thank you." Byleistr wouldn't say the same thing after he realised what Loki had done to him, at what the true cost of retrieving the casket came at. "The casket will allow us to restore our realm to what it once was, given time. I..." Byleistr bit his lip. "I didn't introduce you to the rest of our family because I wanted to see who you were first. I didn't want to introduce you if you would only bring them pain. But if I was to tell them that you are here I am sure they would love to meet you."

"I don't want to meet them." Loki made no effort to keep the frostiness out of his voice.

Byleistr's mouth tilted downwards."Why not?"

With all of his possessions reclaimed and no other Jotuns nearby, Loki saw no reason to remain on civil terms.

"I do not care _for_ them. I do not care _about_ them. And I have far more pressing matters than meeting a family of–"

"–meeting your family, you mean."

"You're _not_ my family!" Loki snapped.

"No," Byleistr allowed. "But we could be family again if you let us."

The Frost Giants were the last people Loki had expected to show such a display of such sentimental weakness.

"Believe me, neither of us want that."

"Why wouldn't we? You could have left us all back in Asgard but you didn't. I consider that a steady improvement. You kept your promise to us."

It was as if Byleistr was compelled to keep pushing.

Loki had one last wound to inflict.

"Yes, I kept my end of the bargain." Loki watched Byleistr closely, ready to feast upon the sting his betrayal would leave. "But you should have been more specific, my would-be brother." That particular claim he could never forgive Byleistr for. "The bargain was that I bring you all back alive, but you failed to specify what condition you should be brought back in."

Instead of pain or anger, all Loki received was confusion.

"What do you mean?" Byleistr asked.

"Take a look at your arm."

Byleistr complied and then realisation began to dawn upon him.

"It's more than a scratch, isn't it?"

"Yes," Loki confirmed, revelling in Byleistr's growing horror. "The arrow tip that scratched you was poisoned – well, poisoned or cursed. I do not know which."

The Allfather's collection of rare enchanted items was more vast than his collection of poisoned items, taken in an attempt to learn the secrets of the dwarves and elves. Odin had not been successful in that venture.

"But why?" Byleistr blurted out. "What could you possibly gain from doing that to me?"

"I had hoped for some satisfaction," Loki said. "I'm uncertain as to what symptoms you will have but I would imagine you shall find out soon enough, give or take a few weeks."

For a long moment, Byleistr stared at the scratch, his eyebrows furrowed together. Then his shoulders sagged and when he spoke his voice was barely audible.

"I should have given you more time," Byleistr murmured.

Loki could hardly believe what he was hearing. He'd wanted pain, he'd wanted blind fury, he'd wanted Byleistr to curse his name and denounce any claims of kinship he might have claimed. He wanted Byleistr to raise his fists and grab him by the throat and give him a good excuse to relentlessly attack. Not this. There was no satisfaction in this.

"I'm sorry," Byleistr said, leaving Loki utterly bewildered, "I should have known this would be harder for you than it is for me."

Loki’s mouth hung open. Had the infliction caused Byleistr to completely lose his mind?

"I suspect it'll spread slowly," Loki warned.   

"Is there a cure?"

Loki shrugged. "Probably, somewhere."

"It would be a lot easier to forgive you if you helped me find it."

"Forgiveness? What makes you think that I want forgiveness?"

"I don't know." Byleistr eyed him warily. "You're clearly desperate for something."

"Whatever it is," Loki answered with forced iciness, "forgiveness isn't it."

***

Loki would have thought that he'd be used to seeing disappointment directed at him – that was the part of the ordeal that shook him. Byleistr had no right to be disappointed; he should have been furious, he should want Loki dead, he should have wished he'd they'd never met. But instead, Byleistr's verdict had been a resigned one. Loki had deliberately put the life of the Prince of Jotunheim at risk and the penalty paid should have been more severe than banishment. But by minor technicalities, Loki had kept his end of the agreement and therefore if the Jotuns were to harm him or not allow him to go free then it would break their end of the bargain.

The only circumstances under which he'd be allowed to return would be if he was to somehow cure the poison or lift the curse or whatever ailment he had caused.

It didn't make any sense.

Gratitude was one of the last things Loki wanted to owe the Jotun who claimed to be his brother. The very word resonated a dull ache inside of him each time he heard it. The fact that it had been a Frost Giant insisting upon that particular claim only added insult to the injury.

Even though Byleistr's final verdict had been fair – more than fair if Loki was being honest – it still was not good enough. They would need access to Jotunheim. Jotunheim was a logical location to try searching for the Time Gem and without finding it, they'd be as good as dead. But Byleistr was hardly likely to grant them what they needed after Loki’s moment of spite-fuelled recklessness.

“Could have given me a little warning,” Stark grumbled, interrupting Loki’s musings and forcing Loki to tear his eyes from the view of the sea meeting the horizon.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Tesseract teleportation isn’t a relaxing way of travelling. I mean, sure, it’s quick but it feels like I just got hit by three hangovers at once.” Before Loki could respond or pause to contemplate how differently the Tesseract must have been affecting Stark, Stark continued talking. “Okay, I have, like, a hundred questions. The first being where the hell are we? Looks like California but um,” Stark took notice of two of the moons that were still visible in the daytime sky, “not.”

“Alfheim.”

“Any particular reason you decided we needed a beach vacation?”

“This was the safest location I could think of. Its inhabitants are not hostile, it is far from Midgard, it has a large natural food supply...”

“Guess it’s more tourist-friendly than the last planet you zapped me to. I’d choose this over the planet that rivals Narnia for its winter any day.” Stark toyed with the helmet in his hands, tossing it up and down. “How the hell did you get them to let us go, anyway?”

“I negotiated.”

“Huh. Didn’t know you had it in you. How exactly did you manage that? And while you’re at it – what’s next? Finding the Time Gem, right? Where do we start?”

“I…” Loki licked his lips before admitting defeat. “I am not sure. It would have been useful to be able to search through Jotunheim’s history but…”

“Take it your negotiations didn’t go to plan then.”

“No, Stark, my negotiations did not entirely go to plan.”

“What makes you think it’s even there anyway?”

“The Norns showed me a vision.”

Stark blinked. “All of this was based on whoever the hell the Norns are showing you a vision?” His tone was incredulous.

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

“What is it then? Cultural differences? A my gods-verses-your-gods type of thing? Did you gaze into their crystal ball, get your tea leaves read, maybe a palm reading if you paid a bit extra?”

“The Norns need no such devices. Their vision extends further than that of you or I and they have the ability to see all the branches of the past, present, and future as they weave the–” Loki broke off once he caught sight of Stark’s expression. “I see that you are sceptical.”

“So you woke up one Christmas morning, threw open the window and decided to buy Tiny Tim a turkey.”

“Excuse you?”

“It’s from– Actually, never mind. The thing is that back on Earth, seeing visions is the kind of thing you’d need to see a professional about. So yeah, you telling me that all of this is based on you seeing a vision makes me sceptical. I trust hard facts. Visions on the other hand… They’re unfalsifiable, non-repeatable, and have I mentioned completely subjective already?”

“If I desired criticism of the only lead we have on the Time Gem, I would have requested it. I know what I saw.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll humour you – for now. Things are different on your magic fantasy Viking home planet. So what happened next?”

It still brought a bad taste to Loki’s mouth to have to give up the leverage over Stark the extra information had given him but Loki saw little choice in the matter, particularly regarding the disaster of their capture on Jotunheim.

“I did not have as much time as I would have liked when the Norns finally deigned to visit me. They informed me of both of our roles to come and of your peril. One of them allowed me a brief glimpse of where the Time Gem is. I saw snow or ice and some sort of temple and assumed Jotunheim was the likeliest location.”

“But Jotunheim can’t be the only planet with snow and ice, right? Based on what you’ve told me, the Time Gem could even be on my planet.”

“Unfortunately, you are correct,” Loki sighed. “There are countless places where it could be. But Jotunheim must have a history of ancient artefacts, many of which we know little about in comparison to the other realms. It would have been advantageous to be able to search there.”

“How though? These are _planets_ we’re talking about – we can’t just hope we’ll conveniently stumble across it.”

“Objects as powerful as the Time Gem leave clues wherever they hide. I spent a long time trying to trace the location of the remaining gems but had little luck. Myths and legends of powerful objects are a good place to start to try to find Infinity Stones recorded in history. I scoured stories of all the realms with stories to tell – all except Jotunheim. I am of the mind that Jotunheim may have some of the answers we need.”

“What are we doing here then?”

Loki fidgeted with fingers before admitting, “They would not be so forgiving upon my return.”

“You can make us invisible. And you can teleport wherever you like. Can’t you just take us to the opposite side of their planet?”

“My affinity with the Tesseract is somewhat limited. I can only travel to a place I have pre-existing familiarity with.”

“Huh.”

“And since I have only visited a very small number of locations upon Jotunheim, this does present certain complications.”

“Just how badly did you negotiate?”

“I got us out alive.”

“And with a lifetime ban by the sounds of it.”

“He took too much!”

Stark eyed Loki warily. “Right... So what did you do?”

“I poisoned him. Or cursed him. I am not sure which.”

“Er, who exactly?”

“Byleistr. Their prince.”

“Awesome. Another one of your great plans? You knew we needed the Frost Giants to let us search their planet. Attacking their prince isn’t going to make them like us.”

“I know that!”

“What did you go and do that for then?”

“My brother,” Loki’s voice was shaking with suppressed rage, “has been dead for less than a week and one of _them_ tried to claim his place.”

“So skimming over how much of a terrible idea that was and how much he probably didn’t deserve it, it’s done now. I hope you know how much of a stupid move that was. So what do we do next?”

“I don’t know.”

Stark glanced around. “At least no one’s around to have seen us teleporting. You sure there are no creatures lurking around somewhere behind the cliffs you should warn me about?”

“The elves may recognise me but they are not actively hostile.”

“Elves,” Stark echoed. “As in the pretty with pointed ears sort of elves?”

“Why, would that offend your delicate sensibilities?”

“Seems a bit clichéd, doesn’t it?”

Loki muttered something under his breath that sounded like something along the lines of, "Only a Midgardian..."

"So – a plan," Stark said, sitting himself on the sand without a care for how the sand would get in between the seams of his armour.

Loki sat down somewhat more delicately and traced his fingertips in the sand, allowing the grains to scatter in the light breeze. He had done a rather magnificent job of putting a halt to the research when he scratched the Jotun prince and had little to lose by seeking an alternate plan, even if his pride made it difficult for the words to leave his mouth.

"I am open to suggestions," Loki said.

"Look – alien planets are your area, not mine. I'd never so much as left my planet before you teleported me away like some sort of dark kidnappy version of Doctor Who.”

Loki was fully aware that Stark did not have more knowledge of the Nine Realms than he did, yet what should have been Loki’s advantage was not helping him.

"How would you normally go about solving a similar problem if you were left to your own devices?" Loki asked.

"If I didn’t have anything to prod I guess I'd do the research first."

"I poured over a variety of ancient texts and articles and I had other scholars scouring texts too to search for any possible links to the Time Gem. Between us we found nothing."

"Then I’d hack to do some digging on stuff I'm not supposed to know."

"Believe me, I was in a position of great advantage and very little information was unable to be accessed."  

"Then I'd do some primary research. If I was looking for a specific object I'd be asking myself how it could be traced. I’d want to know whether it’d only be found in a particular area, whether it emits some sort of energy, whether I’d be able to design something that detects that energy, that kind of thing.”

Stark's last sentence grabbed Loki's attention.

"And would you?"

Stark looked slightly uneasy. "Maybe. It depends on the gem, I guess. But if it's anything like the Tesseract, it should be emitting a pretty powerful energy signature."

"And would you be able to create a device that detects energy signatures that are similar to the Tesseract?"

Stark gave it a moment of thought.

"Not without my workshop. And I'd have trouble with scale. Trying to create a device to detect one specific signature across the whole of a planet would be difficult enough but I couldn't just whip up something that scans planets hundreds of thousands of light years away."

"Perhaps that is our next course of action then," Loki said and his voice lacked its usual bitterness.

"Yeah, because trying to take apart alien tech worked out so well for me the last time I tried it."

"I assume that was the fiasco that resulted in creating the thing you call Vision."

Stark frowned. "How’d you know about that?"

"Thor can be rather careless with the information he gives." Loki's face fell. "He could be, I meant."

"Yeah my timing is probably shit as usual but he also mentioned something about you being dead."

"I was."

"Was? People don't normally just stop being dead."

"I made a deal. We're not the only ones who want Thanos to be brought to an end."

"What did you do – sell your soul to the devil or something?"

"Hela, actually. And I did not sell it per say – she will have a slight claim on it when I die, and if we fail she will have a larger claim on it."

"What did Thanos do to piss her off?"

"He thinks himself a worthy suitor, she disagrees."

"That's a sentence you have to follow up on. Don't leave me hanging."

"He has a habit of demanding her attention each time he kills. The worthier the soul he brings her, the more he will flatter her, or so he believes."

"Wait a second. Are you telling me _that's_ the reason?" Stark's eyes were blazing and his jaw was tense. "My friends are _dead_ all because he's got the hots for her."

"That's the truth of it."

There was a long pause.

"I'll kill him for this," Stark vowed.

"Not just you."

They sat in silence as they watched the tide grow slowly closer in soothing laps, providing an odd contrast to their mood.

"Is that our next move then?" Stark's voice was serious. "Go back to Earth and try to invent an Infinity Gem detector?"

"It could be. But we must wait until we are certain that Thanos and the Chitauri are no longer present on your planet."

"And how will we know?"

"He will lead his army to another realm and there will be word of his next invasion before long."

"So we just sit here twiddling our thumbs and let him kill more people?"

"We'll undo it. We'll be able to undo everything he's done once we have the Time Gem at our disposal."

_"If,_ you mean. And you’re saying we just sit back and bank millions of lives on that?"

"Jotunheim is the nearest realm to Midgard, it is likely that he will attack there next."

Stark stared incredulously. "I still can't bank all their lives on the assumption that we'll actually be able to travel back in time."

"I don't see what else you _can_ do."

"Can't you just keep teleporting back to Earth to see when he's gone?"

"It's too much of a risk. Thanos wields the Power Gem and I know little about its abilities. It is possible that he may be able to detect large sources of power through it, and if he was alerted to the presence of another Infinity Gem so close to him, he would stop at nothing to get it. And if the Chitauri were to get a hold of it…"

"But you could just teleport away if things go south, right?"

"Assuming the Power Gem has no hold over the Tesseract. We cannot afford to make that assumption. If the Power Gem is able to prevent the Tesseract from working, I would have all but handed Thanos another one of the Infinity Stones."

Stark grew quiet, lost deep in thought. "So what it all comes down to are these Norn people. They're the only ones that seem to know where the Time Gem is. Can't you just message them somehow? Ask for a better vision?"

"Would that it was that simple," Loki sighed. "I do not know where to find them. It is believed that many millennia ago they dwelled upon Nornheim but the Three Sisters grew weary of beings constantly asking of their fates and for favours so they hid themselves. Most believe that they no longer live on any realms but exist somewhere within the roots of the Yggdrasil."

"How'd you find them the first time then?"

"I didn't," Loki said. "They found me."

"And there's no 1800-Norn hotline you can call?" Stark asked and Loki shot him a look that questioned his sanity. "No way of getting in touch somehow? No other mysterious but convenient entities you can talk to instead?"

“None as useful.” Loki paused to think. "There are some who say that my fa– that Odin traded his eye at a well in order to gain his wisdom, the wisdom that supposedly made him the wisest being the Nine Realms has ever known. But he has neither confirmed nor denied the theory."

"Sounds shady as hell. What would a well want with a guy's eye?"

“I don’t know, the stories of Mimir’s well are likely hearsay."

"Have you got a location?"

"I came across a number of texts speculating about where it is, but I do not know of the precise region."

Stark shrugged. "It might be worth a shot. Do wells accept credit cards? I mean, we’re not asking for all the wisdom in the universe so the knowledge of one stone shouldn’t cost that much, right? But we should warn them – the Jotuns, I mean. If they're next on Thanos's hit list they deserve the chance to try to prepare or escape or–"

"There is a high probability that they will kill me on sight." Assuming that Byleistr had informed the Jotuns what had been done to him.

"What about me?"

"In between their rekindled love for the casket and having me introduce poison or some sort of curse to his system, Byleistr had other things on his mind than the Midgardian accompanying me. He failed to specify what exactly the terms are regarding you."

"Great. I shouldn't be killed on sight then."

"They could still capture you."

"They at least deserve a warning. And I wouldn't let them capture me this time."

"Oh, really? And how do you propose to do that without putting a halt to our plans?"

"You're holding the Tesseract right now. You could teleport me there and it would take me five minutes tops."

"And how would you return? Apparently, I cannot go with you without risking my own hide and you cannot wield the Tesseract. You would be stranded on Jotunheim with no allies and no one to prevent you from dying. Not to mention how much of a risk you would be posing to yourself by venturing there alone."

"You managed to open a fucking wormhole with that thing in New York so I'm sure teleporting one guy remotely shouldn't be that difficult for you. Give me a specific time and place and I'll be there when you open it."

"Do you have any notion of the kind of power I needed on top of the Tesseract itself in order to achieve that?"

"Um – yeah, actually. I'm kind of a pro on that topic since it was my power you helped yourself to."

"And where do you propose I get the extra power from, hmm?"

"Hooking the Tesseract up to my arc reactor would be risky, even by my standards. It’d help if I knew what all these alien races use as their power."

"Perhaps I would have suggestions if I deemed it necessary. You returning there is an unnecessary risk. A hundred things could go wrong – the Jotuns may hold you captive again, they could kill you on sight, you may freeze to death before being found, you–"

"I'm not that fragile. And I wouldn’t hold back this time if they attacked me."

"If you die, Stark, we both do. Thanos will inevitably win if you die. And if you die, who would be able to save your friends?"

Stark pressed his lips together but his face was hard and resolute. "I can’t just sit back and relax on the beach as they die. They deserve a warning. And while I’m there, I can ask about stones with weird powers and whether they know anything about a well. I need to do _something_ at least."

"No," Loki said, "you do not. That is ridiculous honour speaking – honour that will get you killed and then it won't just be _you_ who dies but _all_ of us. And what good would your honour be then?"

"I don’t think I’ve ever been accused of being honourable before."

"You would be risking the lives of every living thing as well as any chance of bringing your friends and Thor back, do you understand?"

Stark met Loki’s gaze. "Teleporting around the universe is new to me but apart from that, I do stuff like this all the time. I can pull this off. I've got good gut instincts, I wouldn't have made it this far if I hadn't. The Frost Giants really didn’t seem _that_ unreasonable. Me going over there isn’t breaking any treaty or violating any terms so they have no reason to attack me – I’m not gambling with lives by going there to talk to them."

"And I suppose you will refuse to cooperate with me if I neglect to follow your whim?"

Stark was taken aback. "I get accused of being petty a lot but I'm not actually _that_ petty. Apparently, I have to cooperate with you to stop Thanos – people have and will die if I don't. All I can honestly threaten is me resenting you more than I already do."

"Oh, spare me."

"So what do you say? Can you figure something out to get me there and back?"

Loki closed his eyes in resignation.

"I'll owe you a favour," Stark said. "A massive favour. You'll love hanging that over my head."

"Fine."

Stark blinked, taken aback. "Fine?"

"I said fine! But we must take every precaution if you insist on being so reckless."

" _We?_  Did I hear that right?"

"I can't risk sending you off to another realm alone, can I? What if you don't return and I can't find you? What do I do then?"

"I'm touched."

"Don’t be. I need you alive to guarantee my own survival."

"And you're going to avoid being killed on sight, uh, how exactly?"

With a smooth gesture of the hand, Loki vanished from sight.

"Fair enough," Stark said.

***

Their return to Jotunheim was short. Loki transported them to an area obscured from the main city by mountains, gave Stark firm instructions to use his weapons to kill if necessary, and to not allow himself to be trapped this time.

If only commanding it would make it so simple.

After that, it was a matter of pointing Stark in the right direction, watching him fly off, and waiting.

The waiting was the worst part. He had nothing but what he assumed to be his better judgment muttering that this was a bad idea and that he'd just allowed the only person who could save Thor to walk to his death. And for what? So that the Jotuns had more time to prepare for war or to flee? He didn't care about the Frost Giants. He'd tried to kill them all, once. But in that case, why didn’t poisoning his would-be brother bring him any satisfaction? Why did the thought of the hole he tore in their world fill him with unease? Why did he allow Stark to risk everything if he did not care at all? Perhaps if Stark succeeded it would make their alliance less uneasy and therefore the odds would be considerably more in their favour. _Yes, that must be it,_ Loki decided.

Stark had been so certain that he'd survive this. Loki hoped he was right and he could scarcely believe it when he spotted the red figure with a golden streak trailing it in the sky less than a few hours later.

Stark landed in front of him and flipped up his helmet. "Vanaheim," he announced. “We need to go to Vanaheim.”

So they did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the space-venture continues.


	12. Chapter 12

The exertion from using the Tesseract caused Loki’s vision to swim with the blurred greens and browns that formed the canvas of the untamed forests of Vanaheim. But that was good; lesser adverse effects meant that he must have been becoming more accustomed to the Tesseract and vice versa.

Loki shortly became aware of other sounds, of Stark's laboured breathing, of the chirping birds of the forest, and the gushing of streams from somewhere out of sight.

"Stark?"

"I'm fine." Stark's voice emanated from somewhere below him and Loki glanced downwards to see the man sprawled inelegantly on the ground. "It's nothing. I'm getting used to it. Slowly."

"Why Vanaheim?" Loki asked, now that they were here and Stark had finally seen fit to stand up. "What exactly did they tell you?"

"They said the well was here."

That hadn’t been an answer Loki had anticipated, although he could not say precisely what answer he had been expecting. And their answer only seemed to raise more questions. When was the last time the Frost Giants had unsolicited access to other realms? How did Jotunheim have that knowledge while none of the other realms did anymore? Why would they voluntarily give up that information – and to Stark of all people?

"And what of the gem?"

"They didn't know anything about it." Upon seeing the look on Loki's face Stark added, "And no, I wasn't obvious about it. If Thanos asks them about anyone searching for the gems, they won't point to us. Here's to hoping he doesn't ask them about any powerful blue cubes they might have seen floating around – er, other than their casket thingy, I mean."

Loki’s fingers toyed with Gungnir as he considered the possibility that they Jotuns may have sent them on a wild goose chase. But they hardly had any other options than to see for themselves. "Were the Jotuns specific about where the well is? Vanaheim is a large place." As if to illustrate his point, he motioned to their surroundings. The two of them were stood reasonably high up a hillside in a clearing formed by piles of rock and rubble, the forests sprawled out below them, covering the ground like a blanket of dense moss.

Loki’s last visit had been centuries ago when the Allfather had sent him and Thor on what was supposed to be an educational itinerary of the Nine Realms, or more accurately, only the realms that Asgard had allied itself with. Each realm had presented Asgard’s princes with a show of their finest offerings and the ancient temples and ruins had been the Vanir’s. Thor, naturally, had been far more interested in hunting in the forest than the history of the Vanir and–

Loki cut his trail of thought off.

"Yeah, they said something about how it was supposed to be miles behind the Temple of Sara. Or was it Saga? Saya? I don't know, something like that."

“Sága," Loki corrected automatically. How the ancient Vanir managed to seamlessly blend their architecture and sculptures with waterfalls cascading down from above had made the visit a memorable one. "And they offered you that information for free, did they?"

"I had to make a couple of promises I don't mind keeping."

Loki narrowed his eyes. "Like what?"

"Got a couple of commissions here and there, nothing major. And no – I'm not designing weapons again."

"What else?"

"Are you sure you want to know? You'll hate this."

Loki's mouth thinned. "Tell me."

"Byleistr wants me to keep you alive–"

" _Ridiculous,_ " Loki snarled.

"Yeah, I know. I was going to have to do that anyway if it came to it. But he seems to think you have a decent chance of fixing what you did to him. I hope he's right."

"I–" Loki tried again. "I am cursed with imbeciles."

Stark rolled his eyes. "I guess it figures that only a god would have more of a god complex than I do."

Loki shook his head in an attempt to shake off thoughts of Byleistr and took a few strides ahead to view the landscape. "The temple of Sága, you said?"

"Yup."

"I know of its whereabouts. I can transport us as close as possible but it will still be a long journey ahead of us through the forests.”

“Go ahead.”

***

"This way," Loki said, locating the nearby sounds of running water. "If we follow the river it should eventually lead us to the temple. And are you going to insist on wearing that thing the entirety of the journey? Surely the risk of overheating outweighs what protection it would grant you."   

"The suit’s got air con and it keeps away the creepy crawlies. But this would be over with a whole lot quicker if I ditched the walking part of the walk and just flew.”

"I am aware. However, not all of us have the ability to fly and I have no desire for you to lose your way. It would be unwise to risk more delays."

"Worried I'll leave you behind?"

"Hardly. The jungle is too compact you to fly through. You would have to fly above the canopy and the leaves would obscure your view of the river which is our only source of navigation."

"You know my suit has inbuilt radar, right?"

"Regardless, you would risk being seen. There are still a number of Vanir who never left the forests and I have no wish for a repeat of Jotunheim." Loki eyed Stark's armour. "I don't suppose your armour has ways of rendering you invisible to the naked eye."

"Not yet. I've been busy, you know with invading alien armies, world threats, that kind of thing."

It was a slow walk. Their route was ever meandering and they had to carefully pick their way over stray roots and rocks on the forest floor. The humid air was filled with the loud thrum of insects and high up in the canopy, birds of all colours called out to one another. Occasionally, they would spy something larger swinging smoothly from tree to tree and Stark would stop to gawk at it until it disappeared from sight again. Stark quickly began to fall behind and Loki blamed the armour equally as much as the man’s short attention span.

“Do keep up,” Loki urged.

“I didn’t design the suit for taking hikes through jungles.” Stark pointed upwards. “Are those alien monkeys?”

“If I tell you yes, will you break a faster pace?”

“Not all of us have legs as long as yours.”

Loki narrowed his eyes. “Your legs are also fully dressed in metal armour while you attempt to navigate your way through a Vanir forest. You are being ridiculous.”

Even Loki’s leathers were beginning to make him uncomfortably warm in this heat and he had been forced to magic away his metal garments in the bounds of his pocket dimension, where he could summon them again later.

“Hey – I saw the size of that mosquito earlier. I’m choosing a layer of metal over a layer of that insect repellent we don’t have.”

As they walked further into the heart of the forest it became almost impossible to gauge how much time had passed. The leaves above them were so tightly packed together that they barely allowed any light to filter through. Multiple times Stark had fallen behind and Loki found himself more and more frequently having to wait for the man to catch up with him or else the two of them would be separated with no means of finding each other.

“It would be beneficial to pick up speed,” Loki reminded Stark once again upon the umpteenth time he had to pause for Stark to reach him. “Not only is it advantageous to get as far ahead of Thanos as we can with respects to the Infinity Gems, but there are also many predators within these forests and it would not do to have you face them alone.”

Stark held a hand to his heart. “Why, Loki,” Stark mocked, “it’s almost as if you care.”

“I have told you on _numerous_ occasions the importance of your survival, it is self-preservation and–”

“Yeah, I know, you’ve only told me a hundred times how bad it would be for the rest of the universe if I massively screw up and die prematurely.” As if to prove a point, Stark almost tripped over a stray root. “See? I’m better in the air. You’ve been keeping the river on your right since we started and you still have no idea how far off the temple is, do you?”

Loki refused to admit that Stark might have been correct.

“Then what are you suggesting?” Loki asked.

“I fly overhead, get Friday running and see what she finds.”

“Friday?”

Stark gestured to the helmet he taken off. “She’s my AI.” He glanced at Loki. “How do I explain artificial intelligence to an alien? Does sentient tech mean anything to you? She’s basically a very smart piece of programming that does things for me, only it’s more complicated than that.”

Loki slowed his pace.

“And what would this device of yours be able to find?”

Stark was positively smirking.

“Not sat-nav location, that’s for sure. Water – check, stone – check, people – check.”

Loki could not deny that those particular abilities would come in useful.

“You do realise that there are predators above the canopy, not just below, and they are ones that you would have to face alone?” Loki asked.  

“What are we talking here? Giant birds, giant bats, pterodactyls, that kind of thing? If it’s gonna get all Jurassic Park up there at least I’ve got my repulsors.” Stark rubbed his gauntlets together. "If you’re feeling left behind I'd offer to carry you," Stark said, "but nah. Something tells me you wouldn’t be a friendly back passenger.”

It did not take Stark much more effort to persuade Loki to come around to his point of view after that comment.

***

The air had grown so thick with humidity that Loki could have sworn that each time he took a breath he inhaled more water than air. It was difficult to tell whether it was darker because of being deeper inside the forest or whether it was due to the sun rescinding. The quiet had been pleasant at first, although it was not possible for the forest to be truly quiet. Aside from countless numbers of insects and birds, Loki also had a few mishaps with a couple of snakes and spied the occasional ape staring down at him from their high up nests. A thick layer of mud coated his boots that squelched with each step and his skin itched from insect bites. The itching provided such a strong distraction that he failed to notice immediately when the noises of the animals had ceased to be.

The silence was broken by a shrill call emitted by small monkeys with feline-like tales and bright yellow eyes scampering downwards from the upper branches of the trees, causing Loki to startle. The same call was echoed by other monkeys higher up and there were so many of them migrating down that it looked like an avalanche of the creatures.  

The forests of Vanaheim could be a very dangerous place, he had been trying to explain to Stark, even for the Aesir. _Even for the Aesir_ , Loki would have explained, as if he was one of them. Loki of Asgard was a lie and Loki of Jotunheim had been a lie of his own invention – he was of neither.

He was jolted out of his thoughts by inexplicable weight of being watched by something.

Instinctively, Loki called upon his armour. He surveyed his surroundings but could not find the source of whatever had its eye upon him.  He crept forward but his stealth was hindered by the loud sounds his boots made as he lifted them from the mud. He stopped moving, instinct telling him to anticipate the sudden movement or pounce of a predator.

Loki’s body disappeared. He had no desire to battle with a beast today, it would do nothing but slow down the journey. Once it failed to find anything of interest it would leave, Loki was sure of it.

A rustling sounded from the bushes.

Silent, he had to be silent.

It was in that silence that Loki heard the faintest of noises, a high-pitched humming noise and then a loud whirring noise and the branches of a tree only a couple of meters away exploded.

Loki recognised that whirring noise. Before he had time to identify the culprit, the metallic red and gold of Stark's armour fell through the canopy.

Stark righted himself before hitting the ground and greeted Loki with a wave. Loki found himself wishing that he could crumple the armour with the intensity of his glare alone. Then it occurred to him that Stark was waving at him. _At him_. Had his concentration slipped or was it a mysterious power of Stark's heavily customised armour that was allowing him to be detected?

"Could have warned me about the giant killer owls," Stark commented. “Oh – and by the way, you were being stalked by something big and panther-ish. Don’t worry, my dramatic entrance made it scarper.”

That explained the feeling of being watched – he _had_ been.

“I suppose that was your plan all along then,” Loki said sardonically.

“You think I plan things? I’m flattered.” Stark lowered himself to the ground. “Anyway, while you were busy being stalked by giant jungle cats I found the temple. At least I think it’s the right temple.”

“It’s entirely possible. How far away is it?”

“Not far.”

“Lead the way then.”

***

The stone walls of the temple had been so overgrown that it disguised it as a part of the jungle and it wasn’t until they had walked right up to it that the limestone became visible through the gaps in the ivy. If it hadn’t been for Stark’s technology, they might have walked passed it. The entrance, what used to be a large open arch, was concealed by hanging vines and barred by branches that they had to push out of the way to make their way inside.  

Even inside, greenery had made its way in through cracks in the floor and places where the rock had crumbled. Paintings of the Vanir and beasts of the forest and their legends still remained on the walls, although the pigment had long since faded.

“Bet archaeologists would get a kick out of this,” Stark muttered to himself.

“What a shame it is that I did not think to bring any along with us,” Loki replied, though his sarcasm lacked its usual bite. Truth be told, Stark probably wasn’t wrong. The temple was so concealed that it would not surprise Loki if the Vanir had been unable to find its location since they barred its entrance, and it was common knowledge that there were still hundreds and hundreds of similar structures waiting to be rediscovered or reclaimed by the forest.  

Multiple archways marked the separate chambers and animal engraved tiles lined the ceiling and floors. The designers had managed to construct a complex system composed out of the channelling carved in the floor that was interconnected with the waterwheels stationed higher up and other objects so eroded Loki could not identify them. The system scaled the walls and the floors, weaving through floor layers, stretching from room to room, ornamental while still retaining a strict sense of symmetry and purpose. The specifics of that purpose was a mystery but it must have long since been rendered functionless because the ducts contained only dried muddy remains.

“Huh,” Stark commented, “that’s actually kind of impressive. Oh, and by the way, Friday couldn’t find any traps.”

“Traps?” Loki had been so distracted by the mystery of the purpose of the channels that he had forgotten about the possibility.

“I figured it’d be a good idea if this is going to get all Indiana Jones. I’ve had enough exercise without having to run from giant boulders who've got it in for me.”

“That’s oddly specific.”

“It’s a classic. It’s an Earth-movie thing, you wouldn’t get it. Not unless you spent your world domination attempt very differently than how we thought you did.” Stark paused mid-step. “Speaking of planet specific things – is there anything Friday wouldn’t know to scan for here? I don’t want this to turn into another case of some alleged curse that’s actually just really nasty bacteria lurking around.”

“Is this your roundabout way of asking whether there is anything magical you may need to be cautious about?” If it was, it was surprisingly sensible for Stark.

Stark pulled a face. “Yeah, but whatever it is, I’m not calling it magic. Magic breaks the laws of physics by definition. If something appears to break the laws of physics we need to revise our understanding of physics, not just claim that it’s ‘magic’.”

“Maybe it is you that needs to revise your definition of magic.” After all, the important thing about magic was that is only needed to _appear_ to go against nature to be considered magic. “But in answer to your original question, I do not know of anything and I have not picked up on anything that feels magical.”

Loki’s words seemed to be more of a relief to Stark than they were to himself. Illusions were Loki’s area of specialisation, not the meticulous craft of magical observation and analysis; although that was not to say that if something was emitting magic strongly enough he would not be able to detect it – like any other sorcerer, Loki had a grasp of the basics of multiple classifications of magic.

He followed Stark through rooms of varying sizes until they found themselves in a larger chamber that was distinguished from the others by how dark it was. The channels remained around the perimeter and higher up on the wall a carving of a huge stone tiger roared. There was a small set of steps on all four sides that led down to the middle of the room, and there at the centre was a well. It looked so innocuous that it would have been easy to overlook and it was only at closer inspection that eroded symbols and carvings became visible in the stone.

“So we’ve found the well. We think. Now what?”

“I would assume the first step would be retrieving the bucket.” Loki turned the ever so stiff handle and the bucket rose into view after many turns, precariously suspended by a rotting rope. Loki grasped the bucket and peered into it, unsure of whether he would be faced with water, another face, or some sort of vision. Instead, all he found was dried mud caked to the bottom of the bucket.

Stark peered over Loki’s shoulder and clapped his hands loudly, causing Loki to startle.

“Well – no pun intended – we know what we’ve gotta do now, don’t we?”

Loki waited for Stark to elaborate.

“Oh, come on,” Stark drawled, “this is a classic! If video games taught anyone anything, it’s that random bits of mysterious engineering don’t exist for nothing.”

“Are you suggesting that we attempt to repair–”

“Got it in one. Good job of one us is one hell of a mechanic.”

***

Loki did not enjoy getting his hands dirty.

Stark seemed to take a particular perverse pleasure in the prospect of Loki getting his hands dirty, but refusing to cooperate on that basis alone seemed rather petty given what was at stake if they failed to find the gem. So it was for that reason that Loki had spent what must have been a good few hours locating all of the outer entrances that should be allowing the water to flow inside of the temple and clearing whatever was blocking them, be that stone or mud or vegetation, all the while becoming increasingly convinced that this was not what Gungnir was supposed to be used for.

Despite cautiously using Gungnir as a blasting tool and then kicking whatever debris that remained out of the way, earth and mud and clay somehow still ended splattering his face and hands and leathers. To make matters worse, it started raining – not heavily enough to wash him clean, just enough that it made him feel sticky somehow and instead of the mud being in splatters it had diluted into more of a layer that coated him and he had absolutely nothing he could use to wipe it off.

Loki was not happy.

When he returned, Stark was virtually perfectly clean, perfectly dry, and perfectly content lounging on the stone floor in one of the first few chambers.

Loki glared at him. Then he realised that Stark must have done at least an adequate repair because the waterways appeared as if they might actually be able to function.

“Oh, hey. You done, Blitzen?”

“Yes,” Loki replied, his voice somewhat clipped.

“I finished a bit ago. Would have been easy work if I had my tools, all it needed was some reconnecting and a few tweaks here and there.” Stark leapt to his feet. “This whole thing is great, it’s basically a giant circuit board. Substitute electricity for water, wire for channelling and those things right there,” Stark pointed one of the waterwheels, “are some nice old-fashioned components. Got a couple of outputs here and there,” Stark gestured to a couple of stone blocks Loki had previously assumed were purely for decorative purposes, “but my money's on the tiger for the main output.”

“How long should it take?”

“We need a heavier flow of water first. Shouldn’t take long – we're in a rainforest, after all.”

***

Life returned to the temple slowly. The trickles of water were distant at first but then they got heavier and heavier until Loki was able to follow the water as it travelled through the ducts. The flow became faster and faster and then one of the blocks Stark had identified as an output suddenly had a small fountain shooting out of the top of it and one of the waterwheels began to turn, causing the sound of something large grinding to emanate upwards from a floor below them.

“Stark,” Loki said, blinking in surprise, “I do believe you have actually done it.”

“I might be on an alien planet but this – figuring out how stuff works, solving puzzles, fixing things – _this_ is my element."


	13. Chapter 13

All of it, all the drinking fountains and wheels and weights, all of it held nothing in comparison to the chamber that housed the well.

Thin curtains of water fell over the archways, the stone altered to make the cascading water form flowing images of men and women as it fell. The light had been manipulated to reflect off of the smallest of droplets on the walls, making them look like galaxies as they glinted in the darkness. Huge fountains – not just functional drinking fountains but fountains projecting water at heights taller than Loki – sprayed liquid at the main feature of the chamber: the stone head of the tiger. Water thundered out of its mouth so violently that it caused steam to rise all around it, giving it a dragon-like appearance and the pool the water crashed into had somehow been orchestrated into a whirlpool that sucked the water below.   

“Kind of makes me want a continuously vomiting tiger back home,” Stark remarked and then his face fell at the mention of his home planet. He launched into his next sentence, words flying rapidly out of his mouth. “I’m kind of impressed guys this far back managed to grasp water pressure this well. I’ve got to hand it to them, they managed to make a whole hydro-powered system that filters their water, powers the grinders down below, goes into what I’m assuming are their equivalent of water-jet cutters, _and_ makes kick-ass décor.”

“It’s more than that,” Loki said, his suspicions becoming firmer. “The water must be systematically becoming more and more infused with whatever powers allow the user to converse with the entities within the well.”

“Let’s hope it’s not DMT.”

Stark strode to the well and lowered the bucket while Loki briefly considered asking for some sort of elaboration before dismissing Stark’s comment as another one of his Midgardian references.  

“Do you want this or should I?” Stark asked once he had brought the bucket back up.

“I shall take it.”

Loki at least stood some chance of recognising the entity and not infuriating it before anything useful could be accomplished.

Loki took the bucket and stared into it, evaluating his options. The stories had never made it clear how exactly the entities within the well had been communicated with. What if the bucket was not even involved? Feeling like something of an idiot, he quietly addressed the bucket. “Mimir?” He sounded ridiculous even to his own ears.

“I don’t think the bucket’s listening.”

Loki shot Stark with a glare. “I realise that.”

“So what’s plan B? I’ve gotta say, I just hope it’s better than plan A – plan A was just you talking to an inanimate object.”

“Maybe,” Loki said, “if you refrained from blabbering–”

“–hey, I don’t blabber–”

“–for so much as a _fraction_ of a second I would be able to have a moment to myself in which I can actually think without being interrupted.”

Loki turned his attention back to the bucket. If the purpose of the bucket was not to act as a means of verbal communication then there were a number of obvious alternatives, drinking the liquid being the most obvious but also the most dubious. Neither of them had thought to clean the mud from the bottom of the bucket and specks of dirt were floating around in the otherwise perfectly clear water.

Loki tried pressing his face against the surface of the water and opening his eyes to look underwater, Disappointingly, although perhaps not unsurprisingly, there was nothing out of the ordinary.

Stark snorted. “This is why these guys need an email, a cell phone number, a friendly receptionist to point you in the right direction, just _something_.”

It was fortunate for Stark that it would go against Loki’s own best interests to harm him. Instead, Loki, in what he considered to be an admirable show of patience and virtue, determinedly ignored him by recalling what little of the rumours of Odin’s trade with the well he had heard. Would Loki also have to make some sort of sacrifice? Was that what the bucket was for? For him to place his sacrifice inside of and lower down into the pit of the well? But what good was a deal when one person had already paid the price without establishing what they would receive in return? Even the Norns understood the basic principles of a deal; the deal was made and then the cost would be paid, not the other way around. And Loki could hardly imagine the Allfather sacrificing his own eye on anything less than a guarantee that he would gain all the wisdom he could.

Minus climbing down the inside of the well himself, Loki resigned himself to the fact that his only idea left to try was by drinking the water.

He eyed the bucket sceptically.

His first mouthful was not as bad as he had been anticipating and the water would have been pleasantly sweet if not for the occasional bit of dirt that floated within it. As he swallowed, he could feel the dirt sticking to the back of his mouth.

“That good, huh.”

“It’s the mud that’s unpleasant, that is all,” Loki said, fuelled by his need to deny Stark of whatever potential delight he might have found in Loki’s misery. He leant forward to take another mouthful and as he did, the ground seemed to tilt towards him.

“You know, if it’s that bad I could do it. I spent a lot of years downing drinks most people wouldn’t even hold under their noses.”

“No.” It was too late anyway, the effects had already begun. And the magics of the water were unlikely to be designed for mortal forms to withstand.

Loki forced himself to drink again.

“Have it your way. Must admit, I’m not exactly used to the role of being the sober guy.”  

Loki opened his mouth to respond but found that he did not have the coordination to force sounds out of it and when he blinked the darkness of his closed eyelids remained even after he opened them again.

“Um.” Stark’s voice trickled through the darkness, sounding muffled somehow. “You don’t look so great. Demigod first aid isn’t a thing they teach on Earth, you’ll have to help me out here.”

It took an embarrassing number of attempts for Loki to vocalise the words. “Supposed to be like this,” he finally managed. “I think.”

“Right. Er, recovery position? Water? No. That’s what got you into this–”

Stark’s voice was abruptly cut off as water rushed through Loki’s ears. Something swirled in the darkness but Loki could not identify it. It was like trying to peer through inky black water but as Loki’s eyes adjusted, it became apparent that it was the silhouette of a man. Loki was suddenly aware that there was not much space between them. They were penned in by stone that encircled them. The only source of light was a soft glow from somewhere above them and as Loki glanced upwards he saw that there was a volume of water suspended above them with nothing visibly stopping it from drowning them.

Was this the bottom of the well? But how had he–

“Who goes there?” the man called, his voice hoarse from disuse.

“Who asks?”

“An intruder,” the figure identified him rather than answering Loki’s question, drawing closer.

“No, not an intruder,” Loki corrected, “I drank your water. I undertook your ritual. I came seeking a bargain.”

The man was close enough that that Loki could map his wrinkles and a large scratchy beard dominated the lower half of the man’s face. He frowned, not with anger, Loki decided, but with thought.

“It has been a long time since anyone last sought a bargain with me.” The man’s cheeks had the same gauntness his eyes did.

“It would imagine that it has been a long time since a person last stumbled across your well.”

“They used to visit me every day." His tone was wistful. "They used to worship me. They drowned me in gifts that went beyond gold and silver. Why has it been _so_ long?”  

There was pain and hurt in his eyes, Loki saw.

“You truly don’t know?”

“It is my curse. I may give knowledge and wisdom but can never claim it for myself.”

“The Vanir did not abandon you – most fled or migrated for one reason or another and many of their temples were left behind. Your well is not as easy to locate as it once was.”

The man, Mimir he must have been, nodded gravely. “Your news saddens me. What it is that you want?”

“One piece of knowledge. That is all.”

“I am listening.”

“The knowledge of the whereabouts of a certain stone.”

“I presume it is no ordinary stone.”

Loki smiled wryly. “It is not. It has many different names but I know it as the Time Gem.”

Mimir’s face showed no signs of recognising the name, only curiosity. “Then you must give me a gift that I deem as a suitable trade for my service.”

“Very well. I have access to all of the vaults of Asgard and I could reward you with gifts greater than all the previous ones you have ever received–”

“I am afraid you misjudge me. Gold has little value to a being such as myself. What good is gold to one who cannot exist outside of these walls? My riches only come in the form of what the object brought the individual.”

“I am…not quite following.”

“If your gift brought you great happiness then it will bring me great happiness for a time. If the gift symbolises hope to you then it will embody hope for me.”

“I can offer you…” Loki trailed off. What _did_ he have to offer? “My sceptre.”

Mimir eyed it once. “I hope you understand that I have little need for weaponry. I trust that is more than a weapon to you?”

“It is,” Loki said. “It belonged to the king of Asgard. It belonged to Odin – it belonged to… It belonged to my father. It’s a relic of my last betrayal of him and his last betrayal of me.”

“Hmm…” Mimir held out his hand, an invitation to hold Gungnir. Loki lay the shaft in his palm and when Mimir opened his eyes again they were alight. “This is a rich item,” he finally said.

“The sceptre for the knowledge of exactly where the Time Gem is, yes?”

Mimir smiled, almost gently. “I’m afraid that your timing is rather unfortunate. This will be the first item I have had to consume in _so_ long and I can only guess how many centuries it will be until my next visitor.”

Loki faltered. “What do you want?”

Mimir revealed his teeth. “ _More_.”

“I…”

“I want _everything_ you have.”

Loki stared at him in dismay. “Everything I have?”

“ _All_ of it.”

Did that mean Mimir knew about the Tesseract? Did he know where Loki had it stored away?

“No.”

“Then we have no deal.” Mimir had dropped the courtesies and all that was left in his voice was an icy chill.

“I don’t have anything else to give you.”

“Yes you do,” Mimir said and for half a heartbeat Loki thought he was going to claim the Tesseract for himself, “you have your armour.”

Loki blinked at him. “You want my armour.”

“That’s correct.”

Without Loki’s permission, Mimir touched one of the metal plates with a finger. Loki took a step backwards.

“What could you possibly get from my armour?”

The man licked his lips. “Your identity. Your image. You and you alone made your armour into an icon to be feared and revered across realms and across races. It is no ordinary armour.”

Loki did not like this but he saw little choice.

“The armour and the sceptre then, in return for the whereabouts of the Time Gem.”

Mimir nodded and offered out a hand. When Loki shook it, it was cold and slippery and wet and rough all at the same time.

“It is done,” Mimir said as Loki’s armour and the sceptre vanished.

Loki allowed a moment to pass, waiting.

“No,” Loki said, panic beginning to take root, “you still haven’t told me where it is, that was the bargain we–”

“I have kept to my end of the bargain. I have made it so that you _know_ where your precious Time Gem is, all you have to do is think about it.”

_Think about it?_ As if Loki hadn’t been thinking of anything else.

Mimir sighed with bliss. “The gifts do always taste better when they’re willingly given…”

Loki stiffened. No, he couldn’t, he couldn’t mean–

With a jolt of panic, it occurred to Loki that he did not know how to leave.

“I do have to apologise,” Mimir said, his sincerity overridden by the raw hunger in his eyes. “I do not normally treat my patrons in such a way but I have been _so hungry_ …”

Mimir lurched towards Loki, one hand outstretched.

Loki dodged backwards and hit the wall of the well behind him. He tore off to one side but it did him little good. The space was too small. Mimir turned and took another step and his clammy hand gripped Loki by the shoulder. Loki sent a kick to the man’s stomach but it was like kicking stone. He wrestled with the hand, breaking free and then running two steps and then three and then he conjured doubles in desperation but they wouldn't appear and–

Mimir was gone. Loki paused. Why would Mimir vanish? His answer came to him when the water above him stirred and started spiralling into a vortex, water pouring from where the tip of the vortex met the base of the well. It was up to Loki’s boots and then his waist and then he was swimming, desperately kicking to keep his head above the water. Then the rest of the water above him crashed down and he could no longer breathe. It was all he could do but swim up and up and then he saw Mimir reforming at the centre of the vortex and Mimir's hand grabbed his leg and dragged him back down. Bubbles escaped Loki’s mouth as he let out a shout and kicked. He was running out of air. He kicked again but it was feeble against the water and the strength of Mimir.

Mimir pulled him further down and one of his hands grasped Loki’s face and then Mimir was moving in closer and closer and Loki couldn’t escape his grip and he couldn't reach the Tesseract and–

Loki retched.

The water he had drank splattered the stone floor of the chamber. Loki barely had time to register that he was no longer in the well and no longer drowning before something was in his throat, pushing further and further back until he retched again.

It was only when he finished that he realised the thing in his throat had been Stark’s fingers. Stark moved out from behind him and stood up as Loki sat gasping to reclaim the air he had lost.

“Did I make the right call?” Stark asked.

Loki sat with his head between his knees, waiting for the dizziness to stop. He slowly raised his head, wiping at his mouth. “Yes,” Loki panted. “Yes, you truly did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For reasons unknown, my chapter lengths appear to be anything between 2000 to less than 6000 words. Oops.


	14. Chapter 14

“Are you good?” Stark asked after they had made their way back into the first room of the temple.

Loki forced himself to nod. “I am unharmed.” Stark shot him a look and opened his mouth as if to say something but then thought better of it. “There was…a complication,” Loki admitted.

“Yeah, I got that,” Stark said but his words were not spoken harshly. “Go on.”

Loki pressed his lips together. “Myself and Mimir came to an agreement; I would give Gungnir and my armour and in return, he would give me the knowledge of where the Time Gem is.”   

“That explains the sudden wardrobe change. What happened then? Did he take your stuff and do a runner?”

_If only stealing objects and escaping had been the worst of Mimir's intentions..._

"Not exactly," Loki said stiffly. “He _claimed_ to have withheld his end of the bargain before...”

"Before he attacked you?"

"Yes. Unprovoked, I should add."

“What an asshole. I hope you roughed him up real good, Reindeer Games."

Loki responded with an unamused huff.

Stark opened his mouth again. "So we’re back to square one. We still have no idea where the Time Gem is.”

“None whatsoever, thanks to Mimir. Its whereabouts are…” Loki trailed off. As he had been speaking, something inside of him, for a lack of a better term, felt as if it had been awakened. Whatever it was was internal and it could feel and detect and direct and it was as if Loki had inexplicably gained a whole new sense he had no name for. Except that it – whatever _it_ was – felt far. Whatever he was detecting felt far away. “The Time Gem,” Loki started and he could feel the thing responding, becoming stronger, more acute. Loki stood up abruptly and whirled around.

Something was inside his head.

“Erm, you’re not sounding like your usual eloquent self.”

Something had been implanted into his mind.

Was this Mimir’s doing? Was this what he had meant when he said that he had given Loki what he needed to find the gem? Was meddling with his mind Mimir's twisted idea of giving information?

Instinct made him want to rip it out. His fingertips itched to tear and tear until the alien thing inside his head was gone. His mind was a prison of his own making but at least it had been that – completely his own. Even Thanos hadn't bothered to fully breach the walls of his mind, but then again, he hadn't needed to; not when he had the object that allowed him to acquaint himself so well with the very core of Loki's soul and made him an offer he knew he couldn't refuse.

For a long moment, Loki was furious and horrified all at once.

"Er... Loki?"

“I think Mimir might have held true to his end of the bargain after all,” Loki said darkly.

It had taken a great deal of explaining and Loki, who usually had little difficulty finding the exact words and phrases to concisely communicate what he desired, struggled to put into words how the thing in his mind felt. In the end, he had to settle for an analogy, comparing the thing to a compass, only one that was invisible and relied on feeling rather than reading. It pointed, he suspected, to the Time Gem rather than north, and instead of navigating in only two dimensions, his compass pointed in three and allowed him to gain an impression of the distance too.

“Where’s it pointing?” Stark had asked as soon as Loki had finished his explanation.

“Far away,” Loki said. “the gem can’t be on this realm.”

“Which one then?”

Either the compass was not precise enough or Loki was not attuned to it well enough, or more likely a combination of the two.

What later followed was the process of attempting to align a rudimentary drawn map of the Nine Realms with where the compass was trying to direct him, made less tedious by Stark speeding the process with his own calculations based off the position of the sun in the sky. It was Stark who reached an answer first, and when he did Loki groaned at loud.

Niflheim. He’d have to return to Niflheim.

***

Leaving Stark behind was hardly ideal but it would be even less ideal for Stark to freeze on Niflheim. The man had admitted that the heating mechanisms within his armour had been powerful enough to keep him warm on Jotunheim but they were not designed to withstand temperatures that much more extreme.

The most efficient course of action would be for Loki to teleport himself and see how feasible it would be for him to locate the Time Gem by himself and produce an estimate of how long it may take. Meanwhile, Stark would wait in the otherwise empty temple.

“I need a wash anyway,” Stark commented half-jokingly. “Shame I don't have a razor.”

Loki gave a nod and just before he made to leave, Stark cleared his throat.

“You better come back,” Stark said, the intensity of his gaze not matching the lightness of his tone. “Because I’m a bit screwed if you don’t.”

“You have my word,” Loki promised, very much aware that his word alone was probably not particularly reassuring for the man who would otherwise be stranded on an alien planet. “In event of me not returning before nightfall, fly and follow the river upstream and you will come to find Vanir civilisation. They would take you in.”

“Awesome. Maybe I won’t end up becoming Chuck Noland after all.”

***

Moisture froze on Loki’s eyelashes and the wind beat the exposed skin of his face. The Time Gem was closer now, much closer.  He’d had a couple of false starts where he was forced to teleport to other sides of the realm to check whether it would be less distance away but the strange thing was that there was no noticeable difference. Wherever Loki walked, the pull of the gem was somewhere equally deep beneath him.

The compass had narrowed down the location of the stone but it would not be able to assist with identifying a route to reach it.

Loki searched the surface of the realm for an entrance to the underground but the thick blanket of fog made it more likely he’d fall down one before spotting one.

With vague hopes of happening to stumble across something, Loki walked. He walked over hills and down valleys, around huge walls of stone and ice and skidded over frozen lakes, always heading farther and farther away from where he had left Odin. He could not walk indefinitely, he knew, but his blood and higher tolerance of the cold would give him more hours than Odin had before he too would freeze.

When the cold had started to cause his hands to vibrate and redden, he spotted a feature in the landscape that seemed slightly…off. It was a large stone pillar in the distance peaking above the fog, cuboidal in form and the very vertical way the pillar was stationed made it appear as if it had been deliberately placed some time ago rather than occurring naturally.

Loki was certain that he’d spotted another similar such stone on the other side of the realm too.

Loki began his walk towards it and before long he could sense whisperings of magic in the air that grew stronger and stronger the closer Loki got. The magic felt neither harmful nor friendly, but somehow not neutral either. He had never thought to encounter such a thing on Niflheim. Magic, by definition, was not naturally occurring – which begged the question of who or what could have possibly have woven the magic.  No life could survive on Niflheim for an extended length of time without succumbing to the cold. That pillar shouldn’t have existed.

What was its purpose?

Was it a lure? A monument? A landmark?

And who had created it? Were they intending to return or were they long since dead?

But it all came back to the question of what it was all for. Loki was forced to ask himself what he would possibly want a huge stone for if he had the ability to move them at will. If he didn’t have the Tesseract, he supposed one might come in useful for marking the place where Odin lay. Niflheim would be the perfect place to store something, to hide something, to keep it hidden from almost any being and practically guarantee that it would remain undisturbed. There were not many in the Nine Realms who would have been able to detect such subtle magic and far fewer who would be able to wander Niflheim for long enough to discover it.

Maybe it marked a hiding place. It was a stretch perhaps, a leap of the imagination to make something fit, but it was enough that the pillar was at least worthy of investigating.

Loki had arrived at the pillar and if he listened hard enough, he could hear it whispering in a language that he could not understand. The sounds were harsh and urgent and the sibilance hissed in his ears. How ancient must the language have been for the Allspeak to be unable to translate it for his ears? Surely Odin, with all of his powers, must have been able to detect the magic – why hadn’t he ever mentioned it? Odin’s omissions stung less than they used to but they still stung all the same.

Loki’s skin was becoming bluer – not Jotun blue, but blue from the cold and his teeth chattered. With trembling fingertips, he stretched out a hand to touch the stone.

In retrospect, touching something infused with a magic he knew nothing about was a terribly unwise decision, but nothing appeared to happen.

His hands were numb but as he smoothed his fingers over the surface of the stone to attempt to wipe away at the frozen coating of snow and ice, he felt warmth beneath his fingers. The warmth was not all originating from one point, instead there were little patches of it, spread out and here and there in lines and dots and curves.

_Runes_ , Loki thought, but none that he could recognise. They were so many of them all crowded together that it was next to impossible to distinguish one from another.

He closed his eyes and felt for the magic with his mind again. It was stronger now and more tangible, but it was so foreign to him that he had the sensation of looking at something without seeing it, like he could sense it was there but could not make out the details, and when he tried to reach for it with his mind it was as if his magic slipped straight through, like he was trying to hold smoke in his hands.

If only he could understand what the magic was communicating, what it wanted. The runes might have held an answer if he was able to read them but he was not able to identify them by touch alone.

The cold stung his eyes so much that it caused them to leak and the droplets froze on his face.

Time to leave.

***

When Loki returned Stark sat, eyes glazed, methodically breaking a twig into smaller and pieces before adding it to the pile next to him. There was no practical purpose to it, at least none that Loki could see. It was a distraction, a need to mechanically repeat an action again and again in order to prevent the mind thinking. It seemed that Loki was not the only one who found destruction cathartic, and it was only because Loki had caught Stark on such unawares it occurred to him that Stark was almost as desperate not to think about what Thanos did on Earth as Loki was.

Loki took a step closer, forcing his foot to fall louder than it normally would have done.

Stark's mask of nonchalance slid into place and Loki saw for the first time that Stark had more armour than his metal one.

Stark brushed the pile of twigs aside.

“Got anything?” Stark asked.

“Yes and no,” Loki replied. “I know of the Time Gem’s location but not of how to reach it.” Loki proceeded to give an overview of what he had learned, interrupted intermittently by Stark’s further questioning.

“So the runes might be a major clue,” Stark summarised. “Either that, or they might be something completely irrelevant but I’m choosing to ignore that possibility. All we'd need to do is make them legible and figure out how to translate them.”

"Oh?" Loki asked sardonically. "Is that all?"

"I'm thinking this is one of those problems blowtorches fix."

"A blowtorch," Loki repeated.

"Yeah. I'd have to amp it up a bit, obviously."

"You could create fire that could survive Niflheim?"

"Maybe, depends what tools are available to me. Blowtorches aren't your typical fire; the heat’s made from an exothermic reaction of highly combustible gas you essentially point at whatever you want to warm up."

"If you say so. But it doesn't seem wise to point something like that at unknown magical runes without knowing how they may react."

"Fine then, I guess we can do it the boring way."

"Which is?"

"To get Friday to take a look at it. My suit's gonna need a minor upgrade if I don't want to end up freezing to death."

Loki pressed his lips together. "We can't risk going back to Midgard, not enough time has passed yet."

"Are you telling me that there's nowhere else in the universe–"

"–Nine Realms–"

"–that has soldering irons?"

"I am not familiar with the term. Perhaps they go by a different name in other realms."

"Okay, I just need something I can use to melt tin or lead and apply it with precision.  All I need to do is cut off the temperature restrictions and make sure I’m not going to accidentally turn the rest of my circuits to sludge when the suit heats up. It'll be a shoddy job but it'll do the trick."

Loki frowned. "The dwarves specialise in metals but I doubt they know of these circuits you speak of. It may be possible that they have tools you could bend to your purpose."

"Dwarves." Stark blinked. "Are we talking the short fighty beardy type guys or just the short guys?"

"It is true that they are fierce warriors, yes. And yes, many of them sport beards."

Stark sniggered.

"I fail to understand what is so amusing about the situation," Loki snapped.

"It's just–" attempting to explain himself caused Stark's laughter to grow –"it's just so fucking clichéd."

"Clichéd," Loki repeated flatly.

"You wouldn't get it, it's a pop-culture thing. Dwarves are like the Tolkien fantasy race. See what I did there? No, probably not.”

Loki sniffed. "Your Midgardian tales probably have origins of truth somewhere in them."

"Probably," Stark admitted, "but that doesn't stop it being funny. So these dwarf guys... Are they enemies of yours too? I gotta ask."

"No. Being a Prince of Asgard makes me a somewhat recognisable figure but they are considerably less likely to recognise me without my armour."

"Could be worse. What planet are we hopping to this time? Because, you know, as much as I love being the first human on every planet you dump me on, the side effects aren't so pretty."

Loki did not bother to correct him. “Nidavellir. The realm is the richest source of metal in all of the Nine. It only stands to reason that they are the most talented weapon forgers."

“Do you know who you’re speaking to? I’m kidding – I retired. Sounds good so long as I’m not going to have to mine my own metal.”

“I doubt that will be necessary.” Loki held out the Tesseract for Stark to grab the other side of. "Are you ready?"

"Anything else I should know before…"

"Just don't irritate the dwarves or draw unnecessary attention to yourself."

"Hi, I'm Tony Stark."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thank you to you lovely lovely people who are commenting!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [buying_the_space_farm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/buying_the_space_farm/pseuds/buying_the_space_farm) for not only filling in another one of my 'insert pop-culture reference here' notes with something I'd never think of (partially because I've never seen any of the Men in Black films but still) but also for supplying most of the dialogue around it. 
> 
> Also, we have another vaguely Skyrim influenced thing here with Nidavellir in this chapter. Skyrim has been surprisingly helpful with this fic.
> 
> If you read the next paragraph of this note, chances are that you'll be able to deduce a major spoiler for Infinity War. Skip over the rest of this note if you want to avoid spoilers and the rest of the chapter after this note will be spoiler free (I can't 100 % guarantee comments will be though).
> 
> ***Slightly Spoilery Paragraph*** 
> 
> Feels kind of weird to post this in light of what happened and so soon afterward but today is my usual update day so... I haven't actually watched Infinity War and I don't intend to after reading the spoilers for the following reasons: 1 - I don't want to have to deal with those feelings, 2 - I am far too emotionally constipated to put myself in a situation where I'd be upset in public, 3 - I don't know what it'd do to my writing, and 4 - it'll take a year to find out for definite what actually sticks anyway. It would've been nice to have been wrong but I guess the healthier thing for me to do is to go down the 'fix it with fanfic' route rather than stew in misery. So yeah, I still want to finish this story despite being a bit ugh at the moment and not having much hope for future Marvel. I was going to edit this chapter a lot because it's way more light-hearted than previous chapters so the tone isn't that coherent with the rest of the fic but after _that_ news I had second thoughts. So here it is.  
>     
> ***End of Slightly Spoilery Paragraph***

Neither of them so much as stumbled this time when the Tesseract teleported them.

They arrived on the outskirts of a dwarven city, a cluster of grey stone structures elegant in their cuboidal simplicity. There were almost enough towers and buildings to form a horizon line, and entrances to the underground were dotted around the valley, sturdy wide doors that led to huge underground chasms and mines large enough to fit the royal palace of Asgard inside them multiple times over.

"That's funny," Stark commented, nodded ahead at the city, "I was kind of expecting a cesspit of Ye Old Taverns. What are they using as stone blocks? Granite? How are they managing to use _that_ as their primary building material? It can’t be that easy to shift around. I’m not seeing anything around here that could be used as transport. Horses wouldn’t be able to lug that weight around. Do they even have horses?”

"Hounds," Loki replied.

"Hounds," Stark repeated. "Are dogs not menacing sounding enough for them? They do realise they're not the only ones with canine companions, right? Are you saying they're small enough to ride their dogs like horses or they're more like Eskimos riding chariots running on husky-power? And I’m assuming the dogs – fine, _hounds_ – have nothing to do with the granite. But either one makes one hell of a mental image. "

"Don't be ridiculous."

"We're in generic fantasy adventure land and you think _I'm_ the one being ridiculous? Ridiculous is a thing I keep having to redefine every single time we hop planets. I'm half-expecting someone to leap out from behind us and heckle us with a quest to slay the dragon who’s kidnapped some royal brat."

"On Nidavellir?" Loki scorned. "Even if they had royalty, they'd be much more likely be stolen away by some sort of rogue earthworm."

"That's...mildly horrifying." Stark stole a glance at the nearest mine entrance as they passed it. "They might wanna call in Agent J to talk to Jeff.”

“Stark – if this another one of your Midgardian–”

“Yeah, yeah, another one of my Midgardian references. It’s just this sci-fi flick and there’s this giant worm and chaos and... You know what? They should just work on their worm problem.”

"You say that as if they haven't been trying for millennia."

"Again - mildly horrifying. Take any animal and make it huge and it's suddenly so much more horrifying." Stark veered off-path to avoid walking within close proximity of another mine entrance. Loki did not bother to inform Stark of how rare those sorts of creatures were and how solid the doors barring the entrances were. Watching one of Earth's mightiest heroes balk at the thought of oversized carnivorous worms was the closest thing Loki had had to entertainment in a long time.

As they walked, Stark reeled off question after question, more often than not neglecting to pause between them for Loki to answer them. It was only when they were halfway towards the city that Stark thought to point out, "We might stand out a bit."

"Yes, Stark, that thought had occurred to me."

"So are you going to..." Stark waggled his fingers in a way Loki could only assume was supposed to connote magic.

"I have little choice. With their access to the Bifrost still not regained, any person above what is considered to be normal height would stand out somewhat more than usual. And that's assuming they don't recognise me."

"Without the horn attire, you're practically cuddly by comparison,” Stark said and the phrase _mildly horrified_ was brought to the forefront of Loki's mind.”More like The Count from Sesame Street instead of full-on Dracula."

"Careful, Stark," Loki warned, "the worms strike fast."

"How big are they?” Stark asked, too curious to be truly fearful. “Do they have teeth? Does one worm become two worms if it’s cut in half?"

Being left with the prospect of a choice of facing a constant stream of questions or something more entertaining on their walk to the city, Loki chose the latter and proceeded to fabricate stories of the giant worms that inhabited Nidavellir. According to Loki, there had been a plague of wars between the dwarves and the worms, a never-ending battle for the underground that had only come to a close when the dwarves had banished the worm-king to Midgard. Loki had been in the middle of inventing a tale about a revolutionary dwarf woman who had disappeared centuries ago down one of the mines only to reappear riding on the back of one of the worms to take her revenge on those who had given up on finding her when Stark interrupted him.

"Where exactly are we heading anyway?"

Loki had gotten so used to the flow of his story that it was only when Stark spoke that he realised the man had managed to stay quiet for more than a few minutes at a time.

"I was hoping to come across some sort of forge. I expect they may have the materials you require."

"Take it they're not gonna be impressed with a cheque. What can I say – I forgot to pack my dwarf money. Is there some sort of intergalactic currency exchange? Because if there isn't, you guys should probably figure something out. Don’t suppose you’ve got any dwarf money jangling around at the bottom of your magic wallet dimension?

Loki shot Stark a particularly scathing look.

"Oddly enough, Dwarven gold didn't seem like a necessity for me to have on my person before I left Asgard.”

"They're going to be a bit pissed if they catch us stealing, aren't they?"

"There is a simple solution to that problem–"

"Yeah, yeah, don't get caught," Stark finished off. "Shame we don't have a guy who can make us invisible or anything."

"About that," Loki said. "I have a slight alteration."

***

"Are you messing with me?" Stark demanded, after having glimpsed his own reflection. "I get _this–"_ he gestured at his new face "–while you’ve made yourself into dwarf James Dean."

"All so it does not arouse suspicion if the hounds react to us," Loki said primly.

"Yeah, disguising as dwarves might be necessary but what you did to my face isn't. That was a dick move by the way."

"All for the purpose of blending in," Loki replied innocently. Then he dropped the facade. "I’m not sure what else you were expecting. I’m hardly going to go out of my way to humiliate myself. And besides," Loki added, "a more desirable illusion is a privilege to be earned rather than freely given."

"Oh, I get it. So if i'm a good boy and do everything you tell me with no questions asked I get to _not_ look like a Neanderthal. Yeah, not gonna happen buddy. Boy, I bet you could’ve had some fun in school with those powers of yours."

"About those powers of mine..." Loki said, nodding to the rapidly approaching gateway. "You may want to lower your voice when discussing them. I know subtlety is hardly in your forte but it would be advantageous if you didn't begin our entrance to the city with a loud announcement that we are both wearing illusions."

"Alright, alright. Point taken. One question though: am I supposed to feel a tingling sensation or something? You should give me a complete list of possible side effects because – seriously – your illusions can’t have been tested on humans that thoroughly. I don’t want to come out in rashes or something."

"They're illusions," Loki scoffed. "Illusions alone cannot possibly physically harm you."

"Good to know."

They rounded a corner and passed underneath a bridge that skimmed the top of Loki's head before they emerged on the other side to an empty market square. The forge was harder to locate, probably having been placed farther away so as not to allow the noise to disrupt trade too much. Along the way, Loki could not help but notice how few dwarves there were around. Being late evening, seeing less dwarves was expected but for it to be deserted was not quite as anticipated.

"What's with ghost town?" Stark asked, apparently having picked up on the same notion that the place was strangely empty.

"I don't know. This is not normal."

There was tension is Loki's back as he walked and every so often he succumbed to the urge to glance over his shoulder. There was nothing to see but the rigid stone walls staring back at him.

It was too quiet.

Loki strained his ears but failed to hear anything worthy of notice. Had he been wrong about where Thanos would head next? Was it too late for the dwarves? Were they walking towards the very thing they needed to avoid? _No_ _,_ Loki decided, they couldn't be; there would be unavoidable evidence of destruction instead of nothing but silence. Smoke and cities laid to waste and piles and piles of fallen warriors. Besides, if it was Thanos then the Chitauri would probably have made an appearance already.

It must have been something else, a different unforeseen threat.

"Be on your guard," Loki warned.

Stark nodded once.

They passed through deeper into the city, keeping eyes peeled for some sign of life, for the origin of the thing causing the back of Loki's neck to prickle, for anywhere where they could possibly find what they needed and leave as quickly as possible.

Was there the sound of something from the distance or had it been Loki's imagination? Loki looked to Stark to see whether he had observed anything but he appeared not to have done.

The streets narrowed. Some of the first and second floors of the buildings on opposite sides of the path were joined by crisscrossing platforms and footbridges that would be perfect points to ambush from.

"Stark?" Loki whispered, flicking his eyes upward and hoping he would take his meaning.

"My scanners aren't picking up anything up from there," Stark answered.

Loki supposed that was probably a good thing but it still took some effort to force himself to walk at a slow and measured pace. If he was to be attacked, he would rather be ready.

A footstep fell; it was not his nor Stark's. Purely out of reflex, Loki went to summon his knives but his hands came up empty; he still hadn't found any replacement daggers. Stark whirled around, his palms aimed.

Another footstep, one that dragged rather than fell this time.

Loki would have to use his bare hands if it came to it. He wasn’t fond of that prospect.

There was a scuffling noise, closer this time, and then a figure lurched in the shadows, its back hunched over and its hands clutching at the nearest wall.

"You..." it began. It moved closer, stumbling into the moonlight. "You..." the dwarf tried again. "You got any more of the mead?"

Loki could smell the alcohol on her breath from where he stood.

“No,” Loki replied curtly.

The dwarf frowned at him, more out of confusion than irritance. “I don't believe you.”

“No, really, I do not. Now, if that’s all then we shall be on our way.” Loki turned and made a move in the opposite direction, trusting Stark to follow.

“Do you, then?” the dwarf asked Stark instead.

Stark held up his hands. “I’m all out.”

Whatever inclination Loki had to trust Stark to leave the obviously intoxicated dwarf well alone had been a foolish one.

“I had some! I had some just now and I put it down somewhere while I went to get more gold and now it’s gone and I can’t find it but I had it right there!” She pointed at somewhere in the dark alley she stumbled out of.

“My drinks used to wander off all the time,” Stark said.

She nodded vigorously. “They do that, don’t they? It’s so strange. But I– I should get back now. I don’t wish to miss the steak.”

“Fair enough,” Stark said with a breath of laughter in his voice. Loki rolled his eyes and backtracked. Humouring her would get them nowhere.

“Stark,” Loki whispered in his ear, “this has gone on for long enough.”

The dwarf spotted it. “I’m drunk, not blind,” she insisted. “And you’re being rude.”

Stark let out a snigger.

Loki straightened his spine. “My…” he fumbled for an appropriate term to call Stark – 'ally' would hardly seem appropriate to an outsider even if it was the most accurate term, _“companion_ and I have a rather urgent matter we must attend to.”

She grinned lopsidedly. “Yes, you both need _emergency_ levels of drinks. Neither of you’ve drunk enough. Aren’t you celebrating? The whole fucking city is celebrating. Hel, the whole _realm_ is celebrating.”

“For once I came to the party instead of having a party come to me,” Stark remarked.

“Stark – now is hardly the time–”

Stark held up a hand. “I’ve got this. I speak drunk.” Stark turned to the dwarf. “We’re new here. Heard all about this party and wanted in – well, _I_ wanted in, _he_ on the other hand… Anyway, I bet you probably know the city really well, right?”

She gave another vigorous nod.

Stark faltered in his lie, uncertain of how to proceed. “Help us out?” Stark asked. “We’re looking for a friend of a friend. Some sort of blacksmith that lives somewhere around here. Sound familiar?”

“You mean old Steelhands?” she asked after a moment of thought.

Stark snapped his fingers. “That’s the one.”

“Lives on the other side of the city. Let me think… You go past the square and over the bridge and under the lake and then you get to this crossroad where you go…” She narrowed her eyes in thought. “Left?” She bit her lip. “Might be straight on. I’d know if I was there, I promise. Actually – you know what – I’ll come with you. How’s that sound? _And_ I’ll make sure you drink enough on the way. I’m nice like that. I’ll be the best kind of guide, I promise.”

 

***

As far as Loki was concerned, the dwarf was the worst kind of guide. Their only essential criteria was for her not to ask too many questions and to be able to lead them to the forge. Admittedly, she could do both of these things – it was just a shame that she loved the sound of her own voice almost as much as Stark did. It was also by her insistence that they had travelled by some sort of mechanised cart to reach the city centre and it was not a method of transport Loki had been forced to endure before. The dwarf took the front, forcing him and Stark to have to sit uncomfortably close in the back, the cramped seating forcing their knees up high. Whenever they rounded a corner, one of them would inevitably end up being shoved into the other and it was for that reason that Loki sat with his elbow pointed out, his other hand gripping the handle that was placed too far down to give him any proper leverage and stained with what must have been years worth of build-up of grease.

“So this must be how they carry all that stone,” Stark said, half to himself and half to Loki, quietly enough that the dwarf would not hear over the noise of the steam and the wheels on the tracks. “Explains a lot. Wasn’t expecting it to be so eighteen-hundreds though. Don’t get me wrong – they’ve got more advanced tech than Vanaheim but I was expecting something a bit more, I don’t know, otherworldly than steam-powered public transport.”

“Oh dear,” Loki sighed, “I must have performed poorly in my duties of being your own personal chaperon and guide of the Nine Realms.” He let a pause pass. “I hope that you are not expecting an apology because a realm failed to match your unfounded expectations.”  

“An apology? From you? Give me some credit, I know better than that. And yeesh, I was only making an observation.”

“Yes, well, your comparison to the Vanir was somewhat skewed as you have only seen ancient Vanir technology in an underdeveloped region – it is primitive by the standards of the modern Vanir. And may I introduce you to the concept of filtering? You see, for every thought that you have, only a select few manage to make it through to escape out of your mouth.”

Stark grinned. “This  _is_ me with my filter on.”

“In that case, I dread to think what it would be like without it.”

The cart gave an unexpected jerk and Loki’s elbow collided painfully with Stark’s armour.

“Karma,” Stark singsonged, and Loki rolled his eyes skyward.

The smell of metal and rust and oil lingered on Loki’s clothes after they had exited the cursed cart.  Their self-proclaimed guide proved to be as much a hindrance as she was useful, frequently delaying them whenever she caught sight of an acquaintance or events and tournaments going on, and her persistence in trying to persuade them to partake in dwarven ale or mead was exhausting.

The city centre was the heart of the celebration and it was so loud that Loki was surprised he hadn't been able to clearly hear it from where they had started. He had never seen so many dwarves in one place before. They weren’t solitary creatures but they normally preferred to live in smaller numbers, in villages or towns scattered across Nidavellir. The dwarven cities were few and far between but this one, if Loki recalled correctly, was a capital.

Loki was able to credit the dwarf with directness in her route at least, although that meant that himself and Stark had to attempt to navigate their way through the crowds completely avoiding even the slightest accidental brush of other dwarves. It would hardly do for either of their illusions to slip surrounded by what must have been hundreds, if not thousands, of dwarves who were neither friend nor foe.

The stench of ale and sweat and cooking meat was worse than the noise. As they approached the central square, the chanting and singing and raucous laughter grew louder and louder until they had to shout at each other in order to communicate. The ground was filthy, strewn with dropped and moulding bits of meat, glass bottles, and sprays of what Loki suspected had been vomit. Loki could not miss the irony of what must have been such a huge celebration occurring only weeks before Thanos would invade. It made him question what it was all for.

“Must be one hell of a party,” Stark remarked in Loki’s ear. The dwarf was ahead of them despite her height barely surpassing Loki’s midriff and she turned to ensure that they were keeping pace.

Stark’s stomach let out a loud grumble that could be heard even over the loud commotion.

“Tell me those are edible for humans,” Stark begged Loki, pointing at a table containing a pile of barbequed stakes and bread.

“I believe they are,” Loki replied. “If you are able to take some for yourself for later without revealing yourself or losing us then feel free to do so.”

“I wasn't asking permission, I just wanted to know if I'd get food poisoning.” Stark veered off to the left, narrowly avoiding a flying stray axe from what Loki assumed must have been one of the dwarves’ notorious axe-throwing competitions. Nidavellir must have been the only realm on a par with – if not worse – than Asgard for its mindless glorification of displays of strength and fighting prowess.

Walking in perfect balance had caused so many to attempt to force drinks on Loki that he had almost subconsciously adopted a slightly drunken swagger in order to avoid it; there were only so many instances of narrowly avoiding having dwarven ale of all things break his illusion he could take. But by the time they reached the forge and weaponsmith, his swagger had disappeared, much to the dwarf’s disappointment. Even more to the dwarf's disappointment, so had hers.

“Excellent,” Loki said when they reached the stone path to the entrance. He supposed she might bid her farewell quicker if he said his courtesies. “We are most grateful.”

She lingered for long enough that he feared she had not taken the hint. “It has been no trouble. Did we ever introduce ourselves? I don’t think we did.” She held out a hand to be shaken. “I’m Luckypicker.”

Loki had a brief moment to wonder whether she had earned that name or had bestowed it upon herself.

“Jadecloak,” Loki lied, desperately seeking an excuse to avoid touching her hand. He pointed at Stark to stall. “And this is…ironforged.”

Stark gave her a wave but she still had not withdrawn her hand.

“You’ll have to forgive us,” Loki apologised, “it is the nature of our trade that we come into contact with the sickly very often. We ourselves have built up a tolerance over the years but others are not so fortunate.”

Success – she retracted her hand. “So you’re healers then?”

Loki loved it when others embellished his own lies for him. “Yes.”

“Got any cures for the morning after?”

Loki gave a polite but wry smile. “Contrary to popular belief, more ale is not the cure.”

Luckypicker chuckled. “Damn,” she said.

“I know, right?” Stark interjected.

“If it’s all the same to you,” Loki said, “we would best–” he made a motion with his hand that indicated walking into the building ahead of them.

“Oh,” she said. “Yes. Of course.” She leant an elbow on one of the posts by the path. “I can’t believe you came all this way and you’re not celebrating. It’s not every day the Bifrost’s connection to us is repaired and we can trade with other realms again.”

_Ah._ That explained a lot. Although it was quite an ominous indicator of how seriously the dwarves were taking the threat of Thanos – assuming that the council had not passed the warnings and necessary preparations off as madness. But Loki didn't have the time to do anything about that now.

“The celebration lasts for a while longer, does it not? I am certain we shall have opportunity yet. Until then, thank you and farewell.”

“Farewell,” she said before turning back and heading the way she came.

Stark turned to Loki. “Amazing,” Stark said.

“What?”

“For a guy who potentially poisoned a guy, you have impeccable manners. When it suits you, natch.”

Loki shot Stark a quizzical look. “It’s hardly a rare trait. Would you rather have me be rude?”

“Probably wouldn’t work out well for the rest of us.” Stark glanced at the door and then back at Loki. “You reckon they’re out?”

“It looked as if the entire city was at the festival. With any luck, the owner and whoever else occupies the building should be too.”

“Guess there’s only one way to find out. We going in incognito?”

“Remaining undetected is preferable, yes.”

Stark appeared to be waiting for something. “So are you gonna work your magic on that lock or what?”

“Weren’t you listening when I told you that my primary school of magic is within illusions?”

“I was, actually. Then I remembered how you escaped that cosy little glass cell of yours on the helicarrier.”

“What you may remember is not always what transpired,” Loki said. He had only been referring to how he tricked the Avengers and the organisation that held him into thinking that he had somehow magically opened the cell door. Magic had been involved, yes, but illusions alone could not open doors – people could. But the words that left his lips were more honestly spoken that what he had intended and they wrenched the memory – his memory that wasn’t even true, the memory of something that never happened – of Thor throwing him from the Bifrost to the forefront of his mind. The worst part was that he couldn’t tell if it was entirely his own doing, or whether it was another thing he had Thanos to thank for. Or maybe the worst part was that after he realised his own mind had tricked him, alone and forgotten by all but Frigga in one of Asgard’s cells, the memory was no less vivid or real. And to think Loki had once assumed his mind was his own.

“Alright, I guess if you’re going to go all cryptic on me I might as well do it myself,” Stark said, jolting Loki out of his thoughts. Stark aimed a fist at the lock, a motion that Loki was now very familiar with, and a bright red light shot out in a beam. Where the light touched, it ate away through the door and Stark was able to draw holes in the metal as easily as drawing with a pen. The light stuttered and Stark cursed, giving the top of his hand where the light was emitted from a tap. He resumed his work but the light remained intermittent, flickering in and out of existence with a will of its own. “Must have got damaged in the battle. Friday – why didn’t you tell me?” The invisible voice’s response was too quiet for Loki to hear. “Oh. You did.” Stark poked the circle he had made and it fell to the floor before he reached in and undid the latch. “We’re in.”

They went inside into what must have been the shop front and Loki closed the door behind them. The walls were coated in diagrams of armour and weaponry and a selection of the blacksmith's finest armour hung from the ceiling on hooks. There was a door on either side of the counter and no indication of which one led where.

"I'll take that one." Stark said, nodding to the door on the left before disappearing through it.

Loki ducked as he entered the door on the right-hand side and wandered up the stairs, his footsteps falling soundlessly on the floor.

He focused his senses but did not detect any other traces of magic within the air. When he reached the landing at the top of the stairs, there were another five doors and a number of sketchy family portraits nailed to the walls facing him. The floor must have been the living floor – continuing further would serve no purpose.

He retreated back to the shop floor and took the door on the left instead.

The sight that greeted him was not an encouraging one. Stark was frozen with his arms raised while two dogs, each one more than half of his height, were growling and raising their hackles while advancing on him.

Stark must have heard something on the opposite side of the room behind him because he whipped his head around at Loki’s entrance.  The dogs could be easily defeated, with the press of a button or whatever it was that Stark did, he could have the animals dead and lying at his feet within seconds. Loki was fast beginning to lose count of the number of times he wished fervently that he had not lost his daggers. It was not their bites that he dreaded, although they would be painful, but their barks that acted as an extra layer of security.

Loki held still but one of the dogs, a large brown one with thick fur like a mammoth, was on to him.

"Stark," Loki whispered, hoping that his interruption would not set the barking off, "whatever you have planned do it quickly. And quietly."

Stark appeared to do nothing. He spoke no words, made no gestures and none of the mechanisms on his armour appeared to move. Then two pulses of energy shot like singular blasts of air at each hound. It wasn't enough though. The first was stunned instantly, the second shot missed. The remaining hound unleashed a long howl upon seeing its fellow companion fall to the ground before Stark shot at it again and it joined it on the ground with a dull thud. But it was too late – another hound, one from a house on the same street, had begun howling and it was not the only one.

"Stark – be quick!"

More howls sounded, and other and another and–

"Shit!" Stark began digging frantically through a pile of metal in the corner and another cacophony of howls began, echoing from farther and farther away. The fact that no dwarves had rushed downstairs demanding to know what exactly they were doing proved that they must have not been in – either that or they must have been _very_ deep sleepers.

“Is that all you require?” Loki asked.

“Nope. Need a soldering iron.” Stark began rummaging through some drawers. “It’s probably going to have to be a makeshift one. And I’ll need a heat source.”

***

Loki returned after having pushed benches in front of the door to delay the return of the occupants should they arrive back before they had finished. The hounds looked as if they were merely asleep, their breaths deep and even. After having decided that he’d rather have a door between them, Loki shifted them into the main shop floor and when he returned to the backroom, the howls outside had died down and Stark had already fired up the forge.

Stark simply stepped out of his armour and it unfolded around him, metal plates sliding backwards and tidying themselves underneath each other in a way that made the metal seem elegant in a way metal should not be, leaving the suit of armour open and poised in position behind him.

“What?” Stark asked. “Do you all still have to do it the slow way on Asgard?”

“Not if you have magic,” Loki replied.

Stark rolled up his sleeves. “Nifty.”

“Tell me,” Loki said, “has your armour always had the ability to stun?”

Stark shrugged. “Not always, no.”

“It surprises me that–”

“Some of us aren’t quite as stab-happy as you, you know.”

“I was going to say that it surprises me that this has been the only time I have witnessed you using it.”

“Oh.” Stark looked away and poked at the metal in the bucket with a pole.

“Besides,” Loki added, “I think you will find that I rarely use my daggers to actually stab.”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re one pedantic son of a bitch?” Stark asked but there was humour in his tone as he gave the liquefying metal more of a stir. “Slice-happy just doesn’t have the same ring to it.” He pulled out the pole and lent it against the wall. “Alright, the lead is pretty melted. Help me lift this up?”

Loki gripped the legs and Stark hooked his arms underneath the shoulders and together they lifted the armour so that it lay on the top of a workbench. The armour was surprisingly light, Loki realised, and even though he would have been able to move it on his own without any strain, it was quicker with two of them as the awkwardness was anchored to the size rather than the weight.  Loki could do little but watch as Stark began to remove sections of his armour with a delicate care he hadn’t known the man possessed. There were hundreds of thousands of miniature components inside it, as complicated as the mapping of veins and yet Stark must have known the precise purpose of each one because he began to cut away at a short number of wires without hesitation. The words _I hope you know what you are doing_ were on the tip of Loki’s tongue but the more he watched, the more transparent it became how little the words were needed.

It was the intricacy of the operation that Loki questioned when Stark brought a standard pair of nails and, with both hands gloved, dipped one of them in the liquid lead.

Stark let out a sigh. “This is nowhere as good as a real soldering iron. Sorry Friday, in advance.”

“Not a problem, boss,” a female voice said, emitting from somewhere within the armour and making Loki startle.

Stark held the nail over one his plates and used the other to encourage drops to fall off, forming lines with the lead that connected and held different pieces together. He repeated the process, focusing on minuscule sections one at a time. “It’s just a case of reconnecting some components on the failsafe circuit board now,” Stark said to Loki, as if that explained everything.

“Ah,” Loki said, as if he understood.

“I’m not gonna be able to fix the laser though. I don’t have the parts for that here.”

Stark resumed using the nails and lead, such primitive tools for such precise work. Loki hadn’t realised Stark possessed the capacity or the patience for it. How long exactly it took he could not have said, but it must have been less than a few hours which Loki spent bracing himself for either the hounds awakening or the family that presumably lived upstairs returning. In the end, it turned out that neither had been needed.

“Finito,” Stark announced. Loki had been so convinced that they’d have to face some sort of conflict before leaving that he when Stark claimed he'd finished making the necessary adjustments to his armour he almost didn't believe him. “Not bad for a guy who’s gone over twenty-four hours without sleep, huh?”

It wasn’t until the word ‘sleep’ was mentioned that Loki grew more aware of how much the exhaustion of travelling via the Tesseract, as well as every task they had accomplished since leaving Jotunheim, had taken its toll.

“We should probably remedy that,” Loki said.

Stark looked affronted. “It’s not until you get past forty hours that you’re at risk of hallucinating. I’m good for a while yet.”

Loki wasn’t convinced but he did not want to admit that his own state could hardly be described as good. “We have no inkling how long we will have to search Niflheim for. It would not be wise to continue without resting and eating a full meal.”

The prospect of food appeared to gain Stark’s attention more than the prospect of a night of rest because he dropped any resistance he might have had towards the idea and complied well enough with Loki stealing enough gold from the shop to pay for a night at an inn.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, as runes are a feature within this chapter, I should probably admit I'm no expert on them. From what little (mostly Google-based) knowledge I have of them, there are quite a few different interpretations for each one. So yeah, certain liberties have been taken to simplify them a little to make the meaning clearer. If anyone more informed than I am has better suggestions or corrections to make, feel free to suggest them.

Loki had slept intermittently, repeatedly having his sleep disturbed by drunkards and the sound of Stark moving through the thin wall between them. The bed sheet itched and the bed creaked loudly each time Loki so much as moved a limb. Despite that, that and the multiple times he had got up in the night to double check that the door was locked, it was still a better night’s sleep than any he had on Jotunheim.

The curtains made a poor job of blocking the light and so it was still very early in the day when Loki resigned attempting to resume sleeping and left his room to knock on Stark’s door. Loki was not a fan of company in the early hours of the morning but his stomach was making certain demands of sustenance and he did not wish to leave Stark alone and without an illusion masking which species he belonged to for long.

Loki had assumed that the noises he heard must have meant that Stark was awake but the length of time it was taking Stark to reach the door suggested otherwise.

“I was of a mind that we should eat again before leaving,” Loki said by way of explanation.

There were rummaging noises and then the turning of a key in a lock. Stark opened the door, dressed only in his very rumpled clothing, and blinked blearily at him.

“Alright– Just…” Stark rubbed at his eyes. “Give me a moment.”

When they made their way down to the ground floor they were the only guests at the tables – the others were presumably either nursing themselves after celebrating for most of the night or not having returned yet after the night.

They claimed a table in the corner and ate in silence. Loki had just finished off his second helping of lamb pie when Stark saw fit to speak again. “Niflheim next, right?”

Loki put down his cutlery. “That is correct.”

“Can we do a bit of shopping first? I could really do with a toothbrush. And deodorant. And clothes if they’ve got any that’ll fit – mine have passed the point of being stale after I’ve been wearing them continuously.”

Loki took a swig of water. “I fail to see why not. I could do also do with purchasing more daggers and supplies of food and drink.”

***

"There’s desolate and then there’s _this,"_  came Stark’s comment when they arrived upon Niflheim.

“It’s more than desolate – it’s utterly uninhabitable. Speaking of which, your armour appears to be coping with the current climate."

"Yeah, I noticed that too." Stark took a few steps forward. "So is that it?" Stark demanded, nodded at the stone pillar they had arrived in front of.

"What do you mean, is that it?"

"I'm disappointed. It's just so anti-climatic. I was expecting some sword sticking out of it or for it be spouting a magic frozen waterfall or something. Not just…a big cuboidal rock."

"How hard it must be for your overactive imagination to be the bane of your existence."

"You’ve probably been around a while, right? How quickly have people run out ways to call you a sarcastic asshole? Because I’m gonna take a wild guess and say not long."

"Then perhaps your overactive imagination would give you an advantage."

Stark gave him an odd look. "Did you just give me a free pass to call you a sarcastic asshole?” He didn’t wait for a response. "Anyway, Friday – do your thing. Scan Loki's favourite rock."

Loki was not able to hear the machine’s response.

"Are you kidding me?” Stark blurted out. “Loki – there's nothing there. You brought me all this way and made me adapt my suit to withstand this climate just to visit some rock because it gave you the heebie-jeebies."

"No." Loki shook his head. "There _is_ something more – I could feel them underneath my hand, things shaped like runes."

"Friday got nothing."

“They felt warm to the touch – isn’t this machine of yours able to detect heat?”

“Yeah and she’s still not getting anything from that rock.”

"Then try something else." Loki’s tone was harsher than he had intended.

“I have been. I don’t know what else you want me to do – it’s just plain old obsidian."

“And there’s nothing carved into it? No traces of anything being emitted from it whatsoever? Are you absolutely certain?”

Stark circled back around the other side of the pillar. “Nope. There’s nothing on it or coming from it – nothing that Friday’s picking up on anyway.”

Loki examined the pillar more closely, his fingertips hovering over its surface. The runes were still there, he was definitely not imagining it. “Your technology must not be able to detect these kinds of magical energies.”

"Maybe,” Stark allowed. "I really hope you’ve not just found yourself a nice rock. As far as rocks go it's a pretty solid piece and I don't blame you for taking a shine to it but..."

Loki bristled. “I am _not_ inventing this!”

“Okay, as far as I can tell there are only a few possibilities here; either you’re desperate enough to convince yourself that you found something, you’re lying and this all somehow a part of some scheme, or there actually is something there and neither of us can prove it. The question is how do we find out which option it is?”

Loki ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know.” Then out of sheer desperation Loki added, “Did your machine scan the surrounding area?”

"Well, Friday? Did you?" A pause. "Yeah I know I told you to scan the stone but you're supposed to be able to use your initiative from time to time. I thought I added processors so that you’d– Oh right, another thing that must’ve got damaged in the battle." Another pause and then he spoke to Loki. "So… Good news and bad news. Good news is you might be sane after all. Bad news is that whatever this thing is, we’re standing on it and it goes out for miles. It kind of looks like a network of lines on the ground all centered around that thing," Stark said, jerking a thumb at the pillar, “so I’m going to go on out on a limb and suggest we don’t keep standing on it.”

Loki hesitated. Would it be better to slowly edge off the network, with a decreased chance of remaining undetected, or disappear as quickly as possible?

There was a barely perceptible tremble in the ground they were stood on. Stark appeared to have made up his mind.

“Right. I’m gonna count down from three, grab you, then fly up. Then you can do your thing with the Tesseract.”

Loki did not like the idea of being grabbed and hoisted off the ground but he liked the idea of remaining where he was even less.

“Very well,” Loki agreed, even if it was somewhat terse.

“Ready?” Stark asked and Loki nodded in reply. “Three.” The ground shook again. “Two.” Something deep underneath them rumbled. “One.”

Loki braced himself.

His familiarity with Stark’s armour was enough to know that the noises his boots were giving off were not the noises they should have been making.  He just about had time to register that the sparks or burning fuel or whatever force Stark used to propel himself was only enough to raise Stark a few feet from the ground before the ground fell away beneath them.

Then Loki was falling, his arms flailing, desperately trying to grab something, anything, but there was nothing but ice and a black abyss below him. He fell further and further, descending into the darkness. Then his arms, purely by chance, finally latched on to something and he was grabbing at an overhanging rock sticking out of the edge, his legs dangling beneath him. The impact had jarred his shoulders but it was all that kept him from plunging down the abyss below him. Loki’s feet scrambled for a hold but they kept slipping off and he could feel his arms above him slowly losing their grip on the stone. _Don’t look down. Don’t look down._ His panic was making him clumsier. The stone was too rounded for a proper grip and when he tried to pull himself up his arms started sliding. Loki forced himself to stop. He wouldn’t let go – not this time. He needed to think rationally but the threat of the vast emptiness was enough to install terror.

His pulse was so loud that it was all he could hear.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he shifted one of his arms away from the edge. _There._  It was a far from perfect placement but it was more secure than it had been, secure enough to allow him to inch out with the other hand and feel for something he could properly grab on to. _Too rounded– No, that won’t do– No, how could I possibly– Perhaps if I…_ Loki had found himself a small vertical crack, just about wide enough for him to fit the side of his hand into. He pressed in, jamming his hand between the two sides of the rock and gave an experimental tug on it. _Good._ It would hold. Loki took a deep breath and heaved himself up.

He came to a ledge, panting and lightheaded and rubbing the back of his hand. It was only then that he thought to look for Stark and found him, to his relief, way above him, having just hoisted himself to a ledge of his own.

“Stark?” Loki called, his voice echoing off the walls.

Loki could just about make out Stark holding a hand to his chest.

“I’m fine. I’m fine. Where are–” Stark looked down to where Loki was stood. “Oh, there you are.”

There was a moment of silence in which they both tried to get a better grasp of their surroundings. If it hadn’t been for Stark’s armour they would most likely have been in almost complete darkness and the light distorted the shadows of the rocks, making them longer and rougher and more jagged. Loki couldn’t see where the darkness ended, there only seemed to be more and more rock that ran deeper and deeper into the ground. He was too far down to be able to make out how far above him the ground was and the air smelled differently, somehow sharp and stale at the same time.

“Any more clever ideas?” Loki asked, having to raise his voice for Stark to be able to hear. There was another rumble and Loki automatically crouched to cling on to the stone, preparing for the worst. It was only when it became slightly darker that he realised it must have been the opening in the ground closing again.

Stark ignored Loki’s sarcasm. “Well, I’ve got  _an_ idea. Not sure how clever it is though.”

“I will hear it.”

“My thrusters can’t combat icing this bad... But they were able to keep me up off the ground so they should be powerful enough to stop me hitting the bottom.”

Loki’s mouth fell open. “Your plan is to let yourself _fall?"_

“Well…” Stark said and Loki felt immediate trepidation when he detected what might have been sheepishness in Stark’s voice. “I was thinking I should grab you first.”

“ _What?_ ” Loki squawked.

“No, no – listen. We can’t climb out of here, not when the ground's gone and sealed itself shut and it being as slippery as it is. And that means we’re probably doomed if we try to climb down too. If you were going to Tesseract yourself out of here then you would have done already but you haven’t.”

“Of course I haven’t – I cannot guarantee that I would be able to return precisely enough to land on this exact ledge.”

“See? So falling is the most logical option.” Stark’s claims did nothing to soothe Loki’s skepticism. “Look – the thrusters should powerful enough to stop us colliding with the bottom, they’ve got that must juice at least.”

“I don’t like it.”

“I’m not a huge fan either to be honest. Am I coming to you or are you coming up here?”

Loki eyed the gap between them. It was longer than he would have liked but he was painfully aware that out of the two of them, he was the only one who could actually feel the rock underneath his fingertips. Plus, he had the Tesseract. If he fell, he could still teleport himself away. If Stark fell, assuming he survived, he would have no way of getting back to him.

“I will climb up to you but I have a slight amendment to your plan.”

“What’s that then?”

“I suggest we avoid the falling part altogether,” Loki said. “I could easily teleport the two of us out of here once I reach you.”

“I thought you wanted to find a way to reach deep down into the planet? This looks like a pretty good way to me. I don’t see how else we’d get that far apart from by going through the giant hole that opened up.”

_"Opened up_ _?”_   Loki quoted. “It didn’t just happen to  _open up,_  Stark. It hardly did it for our own convenience. I would call it a rather dramatic attempt to end our lives by having us fall to our doom.”

“Maybe it wasn’t an attack.”

“Are you out of your mind?”

“It didn’t attack you when you touched the pillar and it didn’t attack me when I was scanning the pillar. It only started doing something when we picked up on the network we were stood on.”

“Your point being?” Loki asked.

“My point being is that I’m thinking it wasn’t an attack. I’m thinking it was a defense. I mean, if this thing leads to an actual Infinity Stone, it figures it should have some pretty extreme security defense measures in place, doesn’t it? And it only started getting way worse when I activated my boots. Maybe it thought I was trying to attack it with fire or something.”

_"That_ is what you’d be staking our lives on? A hunch that all of this has been the result of ancient long forgotten defensive spellwork?”

“Uh, yeah. And Friday’s been able to estimate your weight so she can give you the proper data now that she’s been able to use the environment as a proper variable.”

“Numbers in an equation are unlikely to change my opinion on the matter.”

“Well, either way, one of us is going to have to get to the other…”

Loki supposed he should have known that just as he had gotten to a safe space he would be forced to leave it.

“Give me a moment,” Loki said.

“I could climb to you if you do don’t want to. I mean, if I fall off I’m not going to collide with the ground or anything.”

Assuming there was ground there. Loki forced himself to believe that there must be ground somewhere beneath them otherwise he would never want to risk moving.

“Yes, you may survive it,” Loki agreed, “but you would more than likely be stranded if you did.”

And with that, Loki began to make his way, carefully selecting his handholds and footholds. He had a couple of nasty surprises when some of the holds were looser or more slippery than he had been anticipating, but he had managed to regain his balance well enough. The worst section involved a particularly tension-filled traverse where his weight was entirely on a barely perceptible ridge and he had to cling to the underside of an overhanging bulge to steady himself as he edged his way along. He had been paying so much attention to remaining balanced that it surprised him when he looked up to see that Stark was not so far away.

Loki could almost taste the irony in that it was only after he had come this far that practically all the usable holds had disappeared.

“There’s a nice bit you’ll be able to hold on to just above you,” Stark informed him.

One more move and he’d be able to reach it. Loki felt around for something, anything, that he could possibly hold on to in order to move higher.

His fingertips were so cold.

“Stark?” Loki asked, still searching the rock and only finding either flat areas or creases that were too small to be of any use to him. “Do you see anything I could use?”

“Erm,” Stark said. An arm appeared above Loki. “Here.”

Loki stared at the offering. He didn’t want to have to trust it. His entire instinct was screaming at him to stay exactly where he was but even he couldn’t do that infinitely.

“Let’s not make this 127 Hours, alright?”

Loki forced himself to grab Stark’s wrist. His skin had become numb enough that it barely registered the metal. Stark’s other hand closed over his wrist and then Loki pulled himself upwards until he was able to join him on the ledge.

There was barely any space. Stark had shuffled to the side as much as possible but they still ended up pressed arm against arm.

Stark flipped up his faceplate. “Worth checking out, don’t you think?” Stark said, staring below them. “A little adrenaline rush for an Infinity Stone doesn’t seem like a bad trade-off to me.” His light-hearted tone failed to match his expression, his eyes wider than they should have been and the muscles in his jaw clenched tightly.

“Assuming this _does_ lead to the Time Gem.”

“Only one way to find out. Friday’s found so many passages that it’s basically a huge maze down there."

"A labyrinth. You are telling me that Niflheim has a giant underground labyrinth carved out of ice and rock. And makes you think that there aren’t any further defensive spells in place? For all we know, going down there could be a suicide mission."

“Why would they bother making this place accessible if they didn’t want anyone to be able to touch the Time Gem? If it’s there, there must be a way to get it.”

Loki pressed his lips together, avoiding looking downwards. Not that it made any difference, up, down, left, right – all of it looked the same.

“Come on,” Stark pleaded, “this is the closest we’ve come to finding it. You can’t back out now. What’s wrong? You don’t like the dark? Neither do I. You don’t like falling? Neither do I. You don’t want to have to trust me?”

It took Loki a second to find his voice. “Of course I don’t.”

“Well guess what, buddy – neither do I. You know what we can both trust? These calculations. The fact that we both know the other wants to survive. We both want the same thing – for now at least, it doesn’t matter what happens after – and that thing right now is getting our mitts on the Time Gem. I guarantee there's no way we're going to hit the ground. And if we get too close, you’ve always got the Tesseract.”

Loki let out a resigned sigh. “I still don’t like it.”

“Join the club,” Stark said. “But in all seriousness, was that a yes?”

“Fine,” Loki snapped, unable to shake the feeling that he would come to regret it.

Stark blinked. “Oh. Okay then. Good. Erm – can I just…” Stark turned Loki around by the shoulders and wrapped his arms underneath Loki’s. “It’s a good job you’re facing away.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I wouldn’t want you attempting to burn a glare through my skull, that’s why.”

Loki was having to settle for glaring at the gaping hole beneath them instead, although perhaps staring at it was not such a good idea.

“Okay, we’re going to have to jump off the edge,” Stark announced and Loki’s breathing quickened at the thought of it. “I’m gonna count down from three, okay? Three. Two. One–”

Loki’s stomach dropped.

There was nothing beneath him and the only thing stopping him from falling alone into the void were Starks arms wrapped around his torso. The metal had never felt weaker and Stark only had the strength of a mortal and it had never been so conceivably hopelessly inadequate. The air rushed past his ears and he had no sense of how much closer to the bottom they were, no sense of how much time had passed, only that they were so so very deep underground and that they were somehow still falling. They had been falling for so long that Loki’s eyes began to play tricks on him and made him see distant galaxies in the blackness and then his breath went from rapid to erratic and then it felt as if his lungs weren’t working at all and Stark was squeezing him too tightly and not tightly enough and–

They were no longer falling.

Stark released him and Loki found solid ground underneath his feet and then his lungs started working again. Loki stumbled to lean against a wall to regain his breath and it wasn’t until moments later that he was coherent enough to notice Stark doing precisely the same thing.

The light in the center of Stark’s chest illuminated the chasm, the glow reflecting off the shards of ice. What had been walls of ice at the top had become a mixture of raw rock and blackened soil, and there ahead of them was an archway that under no circumstances could have occurred naturally. Loki stared at it in shock. He had assumed that the shaft they had fallen down must have been magically altered but to have discovered something completely manmade was another matter entirely. Who or what could possibly have built this? Casting spells was one thing but to stay for the length of time it would take to build something was something else altogether. 

Loki was reluctant to name the thing inside of his mind a compass but he failed to conjure a more appropriate word for it. Whatever it was– the compass then – felt lighter, as if being closer to the gem made the weight of it decrease.

“We’re nearer,” Loki finally said.

Stark's head shot up. “Hm? Oh. Good.” He took a look at the archway. "How'd that happen? I thought no one was supposed to be able to stay here for long."

"As did I."

Loki inspected a column holding the archway up, running his hand closer to the surface. "There are more runes."

"Great. What's this? A 'he who enters must undertake three trials to truly test the worthiness of his soul' type thing?"

"It could well be," Loki replied, entirely serious.

"Oh boy." Stark ambled closer. "Given both our histories, let's hope it's not that."

Loki made a humming noise of agreement.

The runes too small and eroded for each one to be properly distinguished but Loki managed to detect a few that he recognised as bastardised versions of ones he was already familiar with. They had a number of extra lines and were positioned slightly differently to what he remembered from his years of studying, but some were still decipherable nonetheless.  

"Er, I suppose you guys don’t have a space-version of Google Translate?"

"The Allspeak acts as a means of translation but most of these runes are indecipherable. There's Berkanan, the symbol for new beginnings,” Loki explained, his finger hovering over it. "Algiz, a token for protection. And that there... Well, if the components hadn't been separated, it would have been Perthro."

"Which is?"

"Perthro normally denotes the interaction between choice and fate."

"Huh. That doesn't sound as ominous as I was expecting. And Allspeak explains why all aliens speak English. I've been meaning to ask. What's that like – a Bablefish shoved in your ear?"

"Are you stalling?"

"By rambling? Probably. Alright, let's go. I can ask more questions later."

Loki had half been expecting something to happen when they crossed the threshold of the arch, but to his surprise, nothing did – or, at least, nothing that they could perceive happened anyway.

The walls were made of black obsidian rather than pure ice and they had been smoothed flat to form a rounded passage.

"I hate caves," Stark announced and it was loud enough that his voice was echoed back to him several times over.

"Subtle as ever, Stark," Loki sighed. If there was indeed anything existing down there then they would surely be alerted to their presence now if they hadn't been earlier.

"Friday – do your thing." Stark listened to his machine's response. "Okay, if there is anything down here then it's not giving off any heat signatures – endothermic or exothermic or otherwise. And I don't want to– I'm refusing to think about how many miles down we are." He paused again to listen. "Out loud, Friday. It's kind of rude to carry on ignoring the current company, don't you think?"

"According to my scans,” a female voice said from the exterior of Stark’s armour, “you are surrounded by approximately ten square miles of tunnels."

"Shit," Stark said. "That's a lot of digging they did."

"Assuming they dug at all." When Stark looked at him oddly Loki elaborated. "Some types of magic are more destructive than others and vice versa. I suppose it's not impossible to think whoever built these tunnels might have had magical means of doing so."

They began walking through the tunnel and reached a fork in their path.

"Is your machine able to see if there are chambers and rooms here as well as passages?" Loki asked.

"I am, Mr...?"

Loki ignored its attempts to pry his surname. "It's Loki," he answered instead. "And are there?"

"I can identify multiple structures that appear to be chambers. There are 157 above us and 23 much larger ones on the same level as us.”

“Take an extra look out for anything even remotely resembling a trap, Friday," Stark instructed. "Tripwires, pressure plates, holes in the ground, you name it.”

“Of course, boss.”

“That’s my girl.” Stark turned to Loki. “So now where? Is your inbuilt Time Gem compass pointing you anywhere?”

“As it happens,” Loki admitted, pointing straight ahead at the wall, “it is pointing me that direction.”

“Shame your little brain plug-in doesn’t come with built-in navigation. I guess we’ll just have to work around that one. Friday? Little help? Picked up on any unusual readings?”

"There are large energy emissions I am detecting coming from a chamber I estimate to be in the centre of the maze, boss."

"Sounds promising. What do you think, Loki?"

"I suppose it would probably be worthwhile to investigate the source of these emissions."

"Great. Lead the way, Friday."

"Calculating." A number of seconds passed. "Follow the passage and take the first right."

Loki and Stark obeyed, taking numerous turns and twists that led them further and further into the labyrinth. The further they walked, the further increasingly convinced that something was watching them Loki became. The feeling was so intense that even Stark had grown quiet. Their journey took them through wider open cavities, around frozen waterfalls, and skirting over solid underground lakes.

Loki’s fingertips had gone completely numb.

"I need a moment," Stark announced abruptly once they had reached a darker and narrower section of tunneling, taking the opportunity to sit on the ground.

"By all means take your time at leisure, it isn't as if there is any reason for us to hurry."

"Shut up," Stark snapped, sounding oddly breathless.

To the surprise of both of them, Loki actually did. For a short while at least. "For a man who flies around inside of a metal suit of armour, it shocks me that confined spaces bother you."

"Yeah, you need to give me alcohol to get my whole sob story."

"Shall we?" Loki was not, as Stark had probably hoped, referring to the intake of alcohol but with proceeding with their journey.

"The sooner we're out of here the better. I just– I just need to get my breath back, that's all."

Their brief interlude did not last long and after a few more turns they were, for the first time, faced with a solid round door carved into the stone that Friday prompted them to enter. As if it was that simple. The issue was that the door had no handle, no hinge, nothing that could possibly be used to open it. The only feature that marked it as a door was its ornate frame and a sleeping gargoyle-like face carved where a knocker should have been.

"If we find the Goblin King on the other side of that door so help me," Stark said, speaking far too loudly for Loki's liking.

One of the door's eyelids twitched.

"Stark," Loki murmured in warning.

"What?" Stark took a closer look at the face and when he spoke again, his voice had taken on a new curiosity. "Did that just move? Holy shit – is this what I think it is?"

"Shh!"

"You can't expect me not to be excited by a magic talking door if I come face to face with one."

The door interrupted him with a wide yawn and it opened its eyes, its pupils slowly moving between the two of them.

"Hey, how are you doing?" Stark asked it before it had a chance to speak.

The door scowled at him, the furrows in its face morphing into deep lines that shadowed its eyes. “Who are you to ask?”

“I’m Tony Stark.” Stark held out a hand and then hastily pulled it back when he realised the door had no appendages he could have shaken.

“Why is it so cold?” The door moaned and then eyed Loki. “And who are you exactly?”

“I am Loki, of...” Loki trailed off. Loki of Asgard had long since become a distant dream.

“Well then, Loki Of and Tony Stark, what is it that you’ve woken me up for?”

Loki cleared his throat. “We wish to pass.”

The door rolled its eyes. “Well you’d better get on with it then.”

Loki pressed down on his profound exasperation. “Yes – about that. We were wondering if–”

“No,” the door interrupted.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I said _no,"_   the door emphasised. “My duty is not to make this easy for you. If you cannot figure it out then you are not worthy of passing, it is as simple as that.”

“Figure it out?” Stark repeated. “Is there some sort of puzzle? Is there a password or some sort of clue we're supposed to solve?”

The door clicked its tongue. “If you are expecting any help from me then think again.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t talking to you, Hinge Meister.”

The door gave a haughty sniff.

“Well...” Loki said thoughtfully. “This door must be able to speak and listen for a reason, I suppose the key to this must rely on that somehow.”

“Oh _well done,”_   the door scorned. “Any being possessing anything remotely resembling a working mind could have worked that out.”

Stark squinted at its jaw. “Does this thing have teeth? If I put my hand over its mouth, is it gonna bite?”

“I wouldn’t put it past it,” Loki replied.

“I am right here!” the door said indignantly. It did, as it turned out, have teeth.

“Yeah, like either of us were at risk of forgetting.”

Loki took a few paces back to examine the walls surrounding the door but saw nothing that appeared to be indicative of a clue. Was it possible that the clue was hidden? Perhaps it was concealed underneath stone or within the black ice or maybe… _Yes,_  Loki decided. _That would definitely be worth investigating._ He raised a hand and pressed it close to but not quite touching the walls, letting it glaze over the rock as he walked.

The door snorted at his efforts.

“I guess searching for hidden magic runes beats my idea,” Stark said. “I was just going to see what shooting it does.”

Loki continued his search. “I suspect not a great deal apart from agitating it further. Whoever created it must have been a master of spellwork; I doubt they would have allowed brute force to be a viable solution.”

The door sneered at him as he drew closer to its seams.

“I do hope you are not intending to touch me with those hands of yours, you debauched degenerate.”

Loki’s lips twitched. “Oh, I won’t need to. Now that you have all but confirmed to me that I will discover something if I continue, I believe I shall carry on.” He bowed his head. “And of course, I shall play the gentleman and keep my distance.” By which he meant approximately an inch away. He searched it around mid-height and then made a start higher up when it yielded no result.

“Now I really must protest–”

“Yes, I’m sure you must,” Loki said, “because surely I must be triggering whatever enchantments you have been implemented with to make this harder.” Loki knelt and as he waved his hand he felt the warmth of a rune embedded inside the stone underneath his fingertips. “Ah.” It was larger than the ones on the pillar had been and there was no interference from other runes this time. As he traced his hand over it, he recognised it as a variation on a rune he was quite familiar with. “Raidho,” Loki murmured, half to himself.

The door’s face fell.

“Raidho,” Loki said again, louder this time. Nothing happened. It should have been obvious; of course him saying it wouldn’t activate it – why would whoever was capable of creating such complex enchantments bother giving the door a mouth unless... “Can you say ‘Raidho’?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” the door snapped, “of course I could say Raidho if I wanted to.” The door realised its mistake and clamped its mouth shut.

“My humble thanks,” Loki said. Now he had confirmed that the door saying the name of the rune was not enough. If saying the name was not enough then perhaps the door was supposed to translate the rune rather than identify the rune itself… But which interpretation? Journey, transport, and movement were the more direct of translations but more abstract interpretations were also valid. Loki tried his luck again. “What about ‘journey’?”

The door glared at him. “I’m hardly going to fall for the same simple trick twice.”

“That’s a pity,” Loki said, pausing to choose his next words carefully. “It would have been so convenient,” he sighed, “if my move meant to trip you up in precisely the same way had worked again each time.”

“If you orchestrated a move meant to grant you sharper wits then perhaps you would stand a chance,” the door snapped. There was an unmistakable rumbling and the door’s mouth fell open in horror as it began swinging open without its permission.

Loki allowed himself a small smile and stepped through the gap with a flourish.

“But how did you–” the door blurted out.

“As it happens, semantics were not integral to the enchantments in the way that I would have previously thought,” Loki said, stepping aside to allow Stark space to walk through the door. “You – admittedly, inadvertently – revealed that a translation of the rune must leave your mouth in order for us to pass and as you were picking up on my more overt attempts, I thought I might try my hand at toying with wordplay. After all, there is little difference you can hear between _movement_ and _move meant,_  isn’t there?”

Whatever the door’s response was muffled by the door slamming shut.

Stark let out a chuckle. “Word games. Nice. See, if you only came to Earth to play harmless words games we might’ve not been so prone to flinging each other from high places. Well played by the way – he never stood a chance, did he? Still, I’m finding it hard to feel sorry for the guy. Speaking of which– Oh god, there’s another one on this side of the door as well, isn’t there?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops, my desire for Loki to be able to use trickery and for it to not inherently be a bad thing is starting to make an appearance.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've read over this chapter a couple of times but I am very sleep deprived so... 
> 
> On a side-note: hurray for more things borrowed from Skyrim.

Fortunately for them, the enchantment on their side of the door was drowsier than that of the other side and they managed to slink away before it was roused from sleep.

For the first time, Loki found himself grateful for the cold. If it hadn't been for the freezing climate, they would have found themselves surrounded by several wraiths rather than several immobile wraiths. Their fractal forms hovered in mid-air, completely suspended in animation and radiating brilliant rays of white and blue and green and orange.

"Hey," Stark said, rubbing his hands together, "at least task two is pretty."

“Or the third task, if they are tasks at all. If they are, it's possible that the pillar was the first task; given that it resulted in us falling and only narrowly avoiding colliding with the bottom, I assume we failed."

"Not a bad theory," Stark allowed. He pointed a finger at the path in front of them. "Um, are we supposed to just walk through there? Because I gotta say, I'm getting bad vibes from the giant glowing orb things up there."

They were stood at the entrance to a long wide passage, the wraiths neatly lined up on either side and there was an opening carved at the opposite side. The wraiths were completely still, as if paralyzed in mid-air, but the question was whether they would remain so. They were neither beasts nor hard matter, and Loki knew little about whether such powerful raw forms of magic were immune to freezing.

“I don’t suppose there is another way around?” Loki asked. He doubted it. Convenience rarely blessed him.

“Confirmed,” Friday replied. “There are no alternative routes I am able to detect.”

Then there was no option but to walk through the middle. The suspicion that it was all a trap that would be set off the instant he laid a foot on the path made Loki somewhat apprehensive.

“No way out but through then,” Stark said.

“It would appear so.”

It was with the utmost reluctance that Loki moved forward by placing one foot slowly after the other, pausing far too often to glance around him to check that nothing had moved. Loki didn't dare believe that the wraiths would remain frozen but he couldn’t understand why they had yet to attack until it occurred to him that the most opportune moment for an attack would be when they reached the middle of the passage where they would be at their most surrounded.

“How about we don’t snail-pace our way along,” Stark suggested. “If something’s going to happen anyway, there's no point of lengthening it out.” Loki opened his mouth to retaliate but Stark got there first. “And no, I’m not going to risk the whole underground opening underneath us by flying again. I learned after the first time. I just think we should walk faster.”

“And risk missing noticing some sort of ambush?”

“Not necessarily. How about we do a Lee and Carter? You know, we double up? Back-to-backing it’ll save us the neck ache. I’ll take the left, you can do the right.”

“Oh I can, can I?” Loki bristled. In another situation, Loki might have taken more offence at the presumption of a mortal giving him instructions like that, however, as far as plans went it wasn’t a terrible one. Loki didn't have a better one.

Stark was inches behind his back and Loki grew painfully aware of how if Stark missed anything, Loki would be entirely vulnerable – they would _both_ be entirely vulnerable. Despite scrutinising what was in front of him, Loki was paying more attention to what was not, whether voluntarily or otherwise, extending his senses and trying to brace himself for an attack from ahead, from behind, from any given direction. The picking up of their pace did little to soothe his nerves in that regard and his back prickled with the unwanted exposure. He so was lost to remaining vigilant, so lost to carefully examining every single one of the wraiths in his line of sight that when Stark let out an “Oh,” Loki whipped around in fighting position, daggers prepared. Then Loki realised they had reached the opposite side unharmed.

“Oh,” Loki agreed, lowering his knives.  

"That was anti-climatic."

Loki smiled grimly. He still hadn’t eliminated the possibility of the wraiths following behind them. "We’ve not finished just yet."

He did not want to admit out loud that if it took them much longer he would have no choice but to teleport them off the realm for fear of freezing. He still couldn’t feel his fingertips or his toes and his thighs stung whenever he lifted them. Some moisture had frozen in his hair and the exterior his clothing had cracked from the cold. Loki willed away the urge to check his skin for fear of it freezing over. If he was able to will himself to do so, his body must have been capable of coping.

They descended further and further, taking enough turns that it seemed they must have been heading in a circle, until they realised there were gradually no longer having any need for Stark's light. The walls of the passages were glowing, softly glowing, with a faint warm amber light. Had it just gotten colder? Loki couldn't tell.

"Another present the mage has left behind for us?" Stark asked, giving Loki reason to pause.

"I'm not certain. It neither fits into the category of runic based magic nor elemental magic."

"Isn't light an element for you wizardy types?"

“Whether light itself is an element on its own or whether light can be classified within the school of illusion is a debatable subject area."

"Huh. Sounds like it all comes down to whether it’s particles of light you manipulate or whether you actually generate them."

Loki blinked at him. "Well, yes it does, actually." It was rare that even those who had been raised on realms with knowledge of magic were able to truly understand, let alone offer an insight.

“Well?” Stark asked, climbing over a pile of stone rubble. “Which one is it?”

“I have reason to believe it may be both.”

“Huh. You don’t sound too sure about that one.”

“I have been a little too preoccupied to peruse academic lines of enquiry,” Loki answered dryly.

“Fair enough. There’s got to be better times to start a thesis than the apocalypse.”

Truth be told, Loki’s princely duties had never left him much sufficient time for academia, but that was hardly a topic he wanted to share or reflect on so instead he emitted an agreeable humming noise rather than commenting on it.

They must have gotten closer to the gem by now, much closer. Irrespective of the compass, it was close enough to feel its energy humming faintly in the air. Even from within the confines of his pocket universe, he could feel the Tesseract responding to it, like it detected a fellow one of its kind.

The closer they got to to the centre of the labyrinth, the more unstable the architecture became. In multiple places sections of walls had crumbled, in others, sections of the ceiling and the floor had collapsed, and twice they had to pick their way around frozen skeletons of rats nearly the same size as them. The rats raised Loki’s alarm – not out of fear for their kind, but for the implications that they brought. No creatures like that would have survived for long, so the question was why they had been placed within the labyrinth. The mage or mages were obviously intelligent and it wouldn’t stand to reason that they’d place beasts to ward off unwanted parties only for their plans to be thwarted by the climate. If nothing alive could survive for long, perhaps they thought that the dead might. That thought was more chilling than Niflheim itself.

The glowing of the walls gradually became more and more vivid as they walked and when Stark inspected a crack in the wall he found bright bolts of yellow and orange light running through the centre of the rock like fine strands of hair.

It wasn’t until Loki’s muscles felt almost completely stiff that they finally reached something that looked promising. They had reached a section where the passageways had a growth of small crystals of ice spreading out like ivy, growing in size and length the more far away they got. Then there was a large gap in the wall with an archway over the top, similar to the one they had encountered at the beginning of the labyrinth. The light that shone through the gap was as bright as daylight, powerful enough that Loki had to wait for his eyes to readjust before he could read the rune at the centre of the arch. It was an inverted version of the same rune that had been embedded in the enchanted talking door, only this one differed in that it was clearly visible and glowed like it was inked with firelight.

Inside, shards of crystal jutted out of the walls, covering every inch of them, all reflecting the orange and yellows hues. Glistening icicles hung from the ceiling and huge great columns of crystal and ice stretched from ceiling to floor and there, on the opposite side of the chamber through a twin arch, was something placed on a pedestal. The pedestal was mounted on a set of steps that completely dwarfed the object that was the source of the light and there were four large flat rocks that lead up to it like stepping stones, only with yards and yards between them.

It was impossible to tell whether it was the compass or the Tesseract that yearned for the object, or both.

“Well…” Stark said, temporally stuck for words. “This looks like…something.”

"Technically not incorrect, but hardly an apt description." In spite of his jabs, Loki felt the need to keep his voice gentle as his eyes took in the beauty of the chamber.

"What do you want me to do? Wax poetic? Don’t get me wrong, this is probably the closest I’ll ever get to having a spiritual experience because of something being unbelievably fucking gorgeous, not counting–” Stark cut himself off.

Loki hoped Stark hadn’t been about to make a painfully crude comment and hastily changed the subject.“I suppose there must be another task ahead of us. I doubt it’d be so simple as to walk to the pedestal and take the Time Gem for ourselves.” Just as the words had left Loki’s mouth, he spotted the barest glimmer of movement in the air, an invisible barrier ahead of one of the stones that stretched across like a mirage from one side of the room to the other. No – not just one barrier – one for each stone. “Be careful,” Loki warned. “I doubt anything good would come out of touching the barriers."

"Barriers?"

"Yes," Loki said pointedly, "look: barriers." He waved his hand at the first one, the wall of slowly shimmering air.

"Uh – you're gonna have to clue me in here."

Loki walked as close as he dared and pointed. "Look – right _here,"_ he said. When Stark still acted equally as bewildered, Loki spoke again, "Ah. You may not be so foolish after all; perhaps the barriers are only perceptible to magic users."

Stark shrugged. "Yeah, I guess that'd make sense. You're still gonna have to clue me in though; I don't want this to turn into a game of the floor is lava. Not when I can’t risk flying anyway."

"Then I advise you do not pass ahead of where I am stood until I can figure out how to deactivate the barriers."

Based on the logic of there being one stepping stone for each barrier, that the closest stone seemed like a sensible place to start, and with hopes that it would follow the same pattern the previous clues had, Loki held a hand over it and waited to decipher the traces of heat coming off it.

"Fire," Loki murmured after a moment.

“Fire?”

“That’s...” It wasn’t exactly a singular rune that denoted fire but rather a combination of runes that seemed to suggest it. “That’s what I am reading.”

“So what’s it want us to do then – blast it with fire or is it more like an ancient magic version of rock paper scissors?"

"Sorry?"

"I mean, are we supposed to blast the rock with fire or are we supposed to pick its opposite? You know, the thing that’d put it out."

Loki took a moment to consider his answer. "I suppose it’d make more sense if we are supposed to neutralise the element. I did purchase some water flasks from the dwarven market after all..."

Loki summoned one to his hands and splashed a small amount on the rock. He hoped, _sincerely_ hoped, that he was not wrong and that nothing terrible would come out of it as a consequence.

"Is it working?" Stark asked, barely a second after that water had met the rock.

Loki glanced up and saw that the barrier had fallen through in the middle, like curtains being drawn apart.

"It is."

Thinking it wiser to save the rest of the water, Loki only poured enough to create a gap wide enough for them to walk through and instructed Stark to follow directly behind him, not wishing to discover what touching the barriers would actually do. Although, admittedly, he was morbidly curious.

The rune on the next stone was of light and that was solved quickly enough by Stark standing behind Loki and producing enough light to cast Loki's shadow over the rock.

By the time they got to the third stone, the routine was becoming familiar. This time, the rune was of water.

Clearly, the designer or designers of the labyrinth had created a series of puzzles requiring a combination of rune reading, trickery, and elemental magic they most likely assumed only they possessed. Loki didn't have elemental magic but he did have something else... What was it the Jotuns had called it? Cryomancy? He wasn't in his Jotun form but maybe he could...

"I need you to turn around," Loki instructed Stark.

"Why? What do you need to do – piss on it?"

"Just–"

"Alright, alright. I’ll let you keep your modesty."

Loki waited until Stark cooperated by facing the opposite direction before he began.

He'd had moments of wondering whether he could transform at will before, but never had the reason or desire to act upon it. There was little more horrifying than watching his own skin turn into something he could not stand and the churning fear it brought that if he reverted to his Jotun form, he might be able to change back. Loki supposed, particularly after the evidence of possible necromancy, that there were worse fates. This time at least, he had more to work. As he placed his hands on the stone, he forced himself with vivid intensity to recollect the feeling of pushing something inside him through his fingertips and felt the cold become less and less painful. Still painful, but a fraction more tolerable. Then he closed his eyes and pushed harder, forcing ice to surge from his fingertips and grow outwards, encapsulating the stone.

When he opened his eyes, the barrier was no more and as he let out a breath of air, the blueness of his skin started fading back to its usual colour.

Loki waited until he was certain there were no traces of blue before addressing Stark. "This way."

"Oh. You're done. Does that mean I can turn around now? If I turn around I'm not going to be confronted by something I never want to see again, am I?"

Loki had almost forgotten to mask the evidence of his cryomancy and after internally cursing himself, he conjured an illusion of a non-frozen version of the rock to lie over the original.

"It's perfectly safe for you to turn around," Loki said, "but hurry. I suspect I am far colder than you are." That, and Loki did not want Stark to ask too many questions. But Stark, being Stark, was not quite so conveniently cooperative.

“What was it this time?” Stark asked, and much to Loki’s horror, gave the stone a poke. To Stark’s surprise, his touch brought about a change to the stone as Loki’s illusion dissipated.

"Oh," Stark said. "You did your thing."

"My thing?"

"Yeah, your not-so-super-mysterious Jotun thing."

Loki stared, dumbfounded. "You... You _knew?"_

"Well, yeah. It was kind of obvious when someone managed to freeze over the guards’ mouths. And then there was that time your illusion crashed and you were a bit Smurf-looking for a second."

"But–"

"So now you know, you don't have to bother getting me to turn around."

Loki was wordless.

Another person knew.

Before it had just been Odin and Frigga and Heimdall, not even he himself knew. And he would have much preferred it if it had been kept it that way. But then he'd stumbled across the truth on that cursed misadventure to Jotunheim when his plans spiralled out of control and nothing he could do could take it back. And ever since then, more and more people had been finding out. Thor had known. Then Byleistr. The Jotun guards must have figured it out. And now there was Stark to add to that list.

Something in Loki's expression must have caused Stark alarm because the man raised his hands and said, "Whoa there, I'm not going to gossip about this. It's your business. Personally, I think shooting ice from your fingertips is kind of a cool power but apparently you disagree."

That was one way of putting it.

"Anyway," Stark continued, gesturing ahead, "after you."

Loki walked on, too stunned to offer a protest and too reluctant to cause the same thread of conversation to continue by arguing.

The sight in front of them was a familiar one, only this time there was only one veil between them and the pedestal. The Tesseract was vibrating with excitement, urging him to reach it, to reach it and claim it.

They were so close.

Loki could taste the energy in the air, similar to the Tesseract’s yet different, like a brother to it.

Loki held his hand over the stone for the final time and his rising hopes stuttered.

"It's...” Loki began. “It’s life."

"Life?" Stark blinked. "You don't mean–"

"Exactly. The only thing that counteracts life is death."

Stark took a few steps back. "No way. I'm not volunteering as a sacrifice. Actually, even if I wanted to, it'd be pointless. Apparently, I'm supposed to control the gem. And don't worry – I'm not so keen on the idea of killing you either. That's not... There must be another way. We're not killing anybody. We could just...find a spider or something."

"You forget where we are."

"To be honest, I thought you were exaggerating when you said nothing at all can survive here. So, er–"

"I doubt that mages from this era would have been aware that teleportation is a thing that exists and would have designed this place accordingly. A worm from Nidavellir would be fitting, don't you think?"

"Is there such thing as overkill killing?"

"If not, we shall invent it," Loki said, hoping Stark's expression when Loki would find a worm no bigger than the length of his hand would be a humorous enough to be worth the effort.

"Bag full of cats," Stark muttered, shaking his head.

Loki drew out the Tesseract and Stark automatically reached for it. Loki commanded Nidavellir to the Tesseract and nothing happened.

"Still struggling with performance issues?"

Loki tried again. No result. Of course. The sign over the archway, the inverted Raidho rune.

“There must be some sort of ward between the arches preventing us leaving through magical means,” Loki realised.

"Well, shit. Who designed this place anyway? Lord Voldemort? Who puts a thing in place specifically so you have to kill something just to get past? That's some serious supervillain shit right there. Even you wouldn’t have gone that far."

Something about Stark's words stuck in Loki's mind, the phrase _so you have to kill something just to get past,_ churning over and over. Because, technically, that wasn’t true. Technically, all the rune needed was some form of contact with death rather than having someone or something die on it. The runes only needed to be touched by the thing that neutralised the element; as the fire only needed water poured over its surface, the light only needed a shadow cast over it, the water rune needed ice, and so following that line of thought... Following that line of thought, all Loki needed to do was touch it. He had died, after all, and only hadn't stayed dead because of being reanimated by the essence of death herself – he would be a walking body tainted by death. He hoped as such, anyway. It was an odd thing to hope for.

Loki reached out and touched the stone, softly at first, then laid both his palms completely flat on it rather than hovering above it.

"What–" Stark began. And then, "Oh."

"It's working," Loki said, his eyes flicking up to the barrier.

"Clever," Stark remarked. _"You’re_ the thing that died. It's awesome – not you dying – no one's got to sacrifice a virgin or anything. Those guys really end up with the short end of the stick.”

Loki attempted to communicate his feelings about Stark’s tendency to ramble nonsensically with a single disparaging look when his concentration was broken by the barrier being dispelled.

"It's safe," Loki announced.

“Hope you’re right, Reindeer Games. Actually, I can’t really call you that anymore without your super majestic horn attire, can I?”

Loki let out a sigh. “I am sure there are far more pressing matters at hand than what bizarre Midgardian name you can call me.”

Stark nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time later.”

With a roll of the eyes, Loki led the way forward, passing underneath the twin archway.

The cold was now long past a problem; it was agony. Each breath felt like it impaled his lungs and his vision blurred with what he hoped was not ice forming over his eyes.

Instinct told Loki to pause at the bottom of the small set of steps, but he was tall enough to be able to make out the object that was carefully placed on top of the pedestal: an ornately decorated pocket watch sitting inside of an indentation in the table that fit its form perfectly. The watch was open and the Time Gem’s churning light radiated like a sun from where a face would normally have been.

Instinct might have told Loki to not get too close but it failed to do the same for Stark. Stark recklessly climbed his way up as if the thought of it being dangerous not only hadn’t occurred to him, but the possibility also had never existed in the first place.

“Stark!” Loki hissed. “Have some caution!”

Stark paused. “Uh – so what now? Do I just...” Stark reached a hand to grab the pocket watch but Loki moved, quicker than he thought himself capable of, to grab at his arm.

_“Carefully,”_ Loki stressed.

“Right. Yeah. Careful is my middle name.”

Loki had been fully prepared to let go until he heard those words.

“It probably hasn’t been disturbed for hundreds of thousands of years, think on that before you clumsily swipe at it.”

“Oh, I dunno, if I’d been left alone for that long I think I’d be pretty desperate for company.”

Loki pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just spare some consideration–”

“Be polite, you mean?” Stark asked. “How do I be polite to a stone? Hey, excuse me little pocket watch, would you do me a massive favour and hop into my pocket for me?”

_“Stark–”_ Loki fought to keep himself from shouting. “It is _imperative_ that this goes well. An Infinity Stone is more than capable of killing, even when encased.”

Stark’s posture shifted and Loki saw fit to let go.

“Alright,” Stark agreed, “careful it is then. If you can explain how I can avoid it killing me, I’d appreciate that.”

“Think of it like approaching a wild beast. You must be slow and cautious but not seen as weak or prey. And as I believe we are passed the threshold of the ward, I should be able to teleport us away if there are signs of this going terribly wrong.”

“Right.” Stark fidgeted with his arm. “Let's hope we don’t have to do that.”

As Stark tentatively extended a hand towards the pocket watch, Loki hardly dared breathe. He summoned the Tesseract to one hand and kept the other just behind Stark in case he had to act quickly and make a fast getaway. Stark’s armoured fingers were closer now, closer and closer and almost touching and then–

Stark let out a whoop.

“You’ve got it?” Loki asked, despite seeing the evidence plain in front of his eyes.

Stark’s fingers cupped around the base of the pocket watch and then he lifted it towards him, eyes filled with wonder.

“I’ve got this,” Stark said, snapping the lid shut.

It was at precisely that moment when all the light in the chamber disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've said this multiple times but I'll say it again: huge thanks to you lovely people leaving comments – it makes this so much more rewarding and encourages me to put more effort in to write this as well as I can.
> 
> Also, by now you've probably noticed that the Infinity Stones aren't the same colours as they appear in the MCU (apart from the Tesseract). This is due to me starting writing this before most of the colours for the gems were revealed in the MCU. So yeah, the Time Gem is amber instead of green in this fic.


	18. Chapter 18

The late afternoon sun and gentle temperament of Alfheim was a jarring contrast to Niflheim after they had teleported, although it was not an unwelcome one. They were back at the cove they had visited the last time, obscured from sight by large encompassing cliffs behind them and nothing in front of them but a calm sea.

The sensation of temperature returning to Loki’s blood was slow and painful and he envied Stark’s ability to simply step out of his armour and absorb the heat without it being unpleasant.

“What even was that?” Stark blurted out, the pocket watch still snapped shut between his fingers. “I didn’t realise this thing is basically an off switch.”

“I don't know." Loki had found himself growing weary of having to admit it so often. “Its power seemed to be harnessed in the walls of the labyrinth somehow.” He doubted it was merely a coincidence that the Time Gem and the glowing strands that had run through the walls and the rune above the archway had been the same colour. 

“But what for? Was it harnessing the raw energy to amplify the magic or something? Or if it’s the Time Gem, does that mean it altered the stream of time in that place? Like it could have preserved the labyrinth as what it was way back in the past – or the future, I guess – either one would explain why there were things there that aren’t supposed to be there. You’re the one with the knowledge of the Infinity Stones – help me out here. How plausible is that theory?”

“I suppose it isn’t that implausible,” Loki admitted. The thought that Niflheim might once have been able to sustain life had not occurred to him; he had held the mage or mages responsible for the oddities of the labyrinth without giving enough thought to what effects the Time Gem might have generated on top of the magic. But if the Time Gem had provided some sort of window through time...  _Well,_ Loki thought,  _that would explain_ _the runes._ "It does still beg the question of for what purpose the labyrinth was designed for, other than to make the gem difficult to access. Why would it be necessary to leave the gem behind?" 

“Maybe it got out of their control. Maybe it attracted too much attention. Maybe the gem has nasty side effects. What do I know? Maybe pocket watches got out of fashion.”

“Or,” Loki added, “it’s possible that they could not master it.”

Stark shrugged. “That too. Guess we’ll have no way of knowing without knowing the architects.” Stark glanced around him, as if seeing the realm for the first time now that they were no longer speculating. “Oh. We’re back to sunny old Not-California-Land. What is this, our touch base? Stark plonked himself on a log of nearby driftwood. “I’m taking you didn't bring us here to get a tan."

Loki placed himself somewhat more delicately on another piece opposite him. The warmth had melted all the freeze off him and had left him covered in a layer of slowly evaporating chill.

“Until we know Midgard is safe again, we remain here where you will become better acquainted with your gem without attracting unwanted attention.”

“‘Until we know Midgard is safe again’ – what’s that even mean? It’s not like there’s a news channel we can tune into. And you said Thanos is gonna head for other planets next, right? So what if this planet’s the one he decides is next on his kill list?”

“Thanos has a large fleet and travels slowly. We would at least have some warning and time to make an escape.”

“So in the meantime, we’re supposed to do what? Roast marshmallows over a campfire?”

“No – in the meantime, you will begin the slow process of learning to control the Time Gem.”

“Oooh – so this is more like a mystic retreat in the middle of nowhere kind of vacation. Now I get it.”

Loki scowled at him. “I hope you’re taking this seriously.”

Something in Stark’s expression changed. “Of course I am.” Stark picked at a bit of flaking wood.

“It doesn’t sound as if you are.”

“Hey, someone’s got to lighten the tone around here. If I think too much about how many people’s lives are going to depend on me getting to grips with the gem, my chances of ever doing that are going to plummet.” He twiddled the wood in his fingers and then threw it in the direction of the shore. “So, yeah,” Stark said, his voice forcefully more playful as he punctuated the throw, “you’re stuck with my dumb jokes. They’re for sanity’s sake.”

“For sanity’s sake...” Loki echoed. Something about the underlying sincerity in which Stark had said it deterred Loki from making some sort of scathing remark.

“How do I learn to control it then? How do I learn to control the gem?”

“I’d advise establishing a relationship with it before attempting any form of control.”

"What – is there an Infinity Gem social etiquette I'm supposed to follow? Am I supposed to formally introduce myself?”

“The gems do not communicate in the same way that you or I might do. But sometimes you might feel something from it, sometimes it might feel as if it is the reverse, and other times it might feel... Well, it might feel as if it does not want to cooperate in the slightest. In any case, do not force its actions. If you try to force its power without being able to harness it or direct it properly, the consequences may be disastrous."

“Are we talking blowing up a SHIELD base level of disastrous?”

“That would be one example.” The Tesseract had not appreciated Selvig coercing it to teleport Loki from across the universe. “But I can only speculate about what harm the gems could inflict on a larger scale if they truly wished to."

“Ultron wished to," Stark said darkly. "And Ultron was a hybrid that didn’t even end up using an Infinity Stone in the end.”

Stark held the pocket watch between his thumb and forefinger. It was far less conspicuous than any other of the containers that housed the Infinity Stones Loki had come across. It was innocuous enough and small in size, with elaborate carvings on the lid. A long gold neck chain was attached to it and even when shut, some of the Time Gem’s light leaked out of the seams.

“You know what?” Stark said. “Remind me to never piss this thing off.”

“I shall hope you won't have to solely rely on me doing so.”

They fell into silence but with Stark around, the silences tended to never last long. “Are you gonna try to tutor me?”

_“Guide_ might be more appropriate.”

Stark nodded. “Probably more realistic. Anyone that tries to tutor me is either rapidly A: frustrated; B: embarrassed; or C: both.”

“Well, Stark, if it soothes your ego I would never willingly place myself in such a position of responsibility over you.”

“Er, good? I don’t think it was a compliment but I’m taking it as one anyway.” Stark positioned his suit of armour so that it sat next to his feet on the sand. “I’ve got a question for you before lessons start – where the hell are we going to sleep? I don’t see any hotels around here. I don’t see any houses. And to be honest, you don’t really strike me as an outdoorsy Bear Grylls type.”

“Water flasks were not the only thing I bought from the Nidavellir market. I also bought a tent while you were purchasing your own supplies.”

“Uh – did I hear that right? Just one tent?”

Loki folded his arms. “I’m hardly fond of the idea either. But after buying food, other supplies, and paying for our stay at the inn, we only had a small amount of gold left. And the markets were too crowded and too well guarded for it to be worth risking stealing anything. Besides, I wasn’t certain at that point whether we would even have need of portable shelter.”

“Great. You know, if anyone told me a few months ago that I’d be having an island sleepover retreat with you of all people without, you know, having to worry you’d kill me in my sleep...”

Loki had no reply and occupied himself by summoning some of the food and water rations he had bought. The pastry and meat were cold but he found that neither he or Stark had any complaints. By the time they'd finished, the sun was beginning to set and more and more winged insects had taken to the air, tiny nuisances that hummed and bit and itched.

Just as Loki had been able to suggest they set up the tent, Stark said, "That's our cue."

From various misadventures with Thor, Sif, and the Warriors Three, Loki was quite familiar with tents from his travels as a child and young adult. What he was not so familiar with was setting them up; he'd always had someone else to do that for him. He'd hoped Stark might have more to offer but Stark diminished those hopes with an announcement that he had never slept in a tent a day in his life. 

They'd retreated away from the shoreline and past the point where the grass and sand were intermingled, a sign that the tide did not bring the sea out this far. They settled on a spot just at the edge of the woodland; Stark had theorised they'd be more sheltered and the pegs would have something to dig into that'd be much sturdier than just sand.

"What kind of weather should we expect anyway? It can't be sunny and cloudless all the time, right?" Stark asked.

"Alfheim is more prone to bad winds and hurricanes than other realms."

"Uh-huh." Stark had emptied the contents of the bag containing the tent on the ground and rummaged through various bits of poles and pegs and fabrics. "Right," he said eventually. "Since both of us were clearly way too rich and privileged to have camping trips as kids–"

Loki did not bother correcting him; on Asgard, it was only the rich and privileged who could class those sorts of trips as adventures. "That's the groundsheet," he said, pointing to the folded square piece of material. "The tent goes over the top of it." That much, at least, he was certain of.

Stark looked at him sharply. "Wait – _you,_  the Asgardian _royalty_ – have been _camping?"_

"Hunting trips are common on Asgard," Loki said by way of explanation. "And sojourns to other realms are expected of warriors." He'd never particularly enjoyed the trips but he found the reminder left a bittersweet ache. They'd all been so young.

"Huh. Maybe you are the Bear Grylls type after all." Stark caught Loki's expression and rushed into an explanation. "He's a guy, this really famous guy, he has all these survival skills; drinking his own piss, living off acorns and insects, that kind of thing."

Loki wrinkled his nose. "You Midgardians choose strange idols."

Stark laughed. "Yeah, speaking as one of those idols..."

Loki huffed a breath of amusement.

Stark resumed analysing the tent parts, rearranging the fabric to figure out how it was supposed to be structured when assembled. "Alright, I've got this figured out."

Loki nodded. "Good. I believe it's common practice for one person to push the poles through the slots and another to assist feeding them through."

After that, it did not take long. All they had left to do was peg the tent and the guy-ropes and when they had finished they had, unsurprisingly, a shelter that was a little on the short side. It was a neutral green, the choice by chance being a minor blessing in how little it stood out from the forest, and it had been advertised as a tent designed to fit four – four _dwarves_ that was.

The fly-net was the largest blessing and both of them were eager to relieve themselves of the insects.

Stark unceremoniously placed his suit of armour so that it sat between the two of them like a barrier. Loki kept his relief private. Stark was never still, the same probably applied even when asleep and he would rather not be woken up by being rolled into or elbowed or worse.

"You'll be on first watch of scanning outside, Friday."

"Isn't that the only watch, boss?" Friday asked.

"Well, yeah, technically. But it's still the first one." Stark directed his gaze at Loki. "Please tell me that between us, you know, two of who must be in the top percent of richest people in the galaxy, that we could afford something to sleep on."

"I was forced to choose from the cheapest." Loki's tone left no doubt about his disgust.

Stark took Loki's offering and unrolled his fabric. They were both the same, brown and thin and far too short, with equally small blankets to match.

"Dwarves," Loki muttered. "I would have bought twice the number if we had the coin for it."

Stark tested his, lying flat. His calves hung over the edge of the roll mat.

"You know what? For some reason, I'm beginning to think these were designed for people smaller than us."

"How you arrived at that conclusion, I cannot possibly imagine."

The tent roof was so low that Loki crawled to position his roll mat and blankets, sitting upon them gingerly when he’d finished, as if expecting to feel hard ground underneath. His expectations were not unfounded and half his legs were too long for the mat. 

Stark began chuckling to himself and Loki suspected it was at his expense. “Is my discomfort truly that amusing?” Loki asked.

“I'm not even laughing at how ridiculously tall you are. I'm laughing at how if we both make it, you’re never going to live this one down because – technically – we’re sleeping together.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “Lewd, Stark, even by your standards.”

“You know, if you ever decide you want to invade the planet again, I wouldn’t even have to fight you. I’d just start telling everyone about how we slept together and you’d so embarrassed you’d zap yourself off somewhere else.”

“I would ask whether you would have a care for your own reputation but the question would be futile.”

“You mean my reputation as a playboy? Because that really wouldn’t help your case.”

“My reputation of having certain standards to maintain wouldn’t help make your claim believable.”

Stark let out a laugh. “Your reputation of certain standards? Not on my planet, you don’t. I’m pretty sure we have stories about you fucking a horse.”

“That’s preposterous. Why in the name of the Norns–”

“Although, I guess you could still be a horse-fucker and have standards. I mean, if the horse is well-bred, has a handsome mane, is fast in the field…”

“Do you wish for there to be a Stark shaped hole in the wall of this tent?”

“Normally people ride the horses but hey, I guess that’s just a convention. Whatever floats your boat, buddy. I won’t tell a soul, cross my heart and hope to die.” Stark made a crossing motion across his chest.

“You are utterly vulgar.”

Stark laughed again. “Aw – come on. I thought we were having fun exchanging sleepover secrets.”

“As I recall, you mentioned being surprised about your assurance that I wouldn’t stab you whilst you slept,” Loki said, forcing a malicious smile. “You should have been more concerned about me stabbing you while you are awake.”

“Yeah, whatever. Maybe when we’re done saving the universe.” Stark began to crawl over to the entrance and his suit of armour started to follow suit.

"Stark? Where are you going?”

Stark began to undo the fastenings on the fly-net. "Gotta go for a piss." He patted the armour as if it was a loyal pet. "This is my flashlight." And with that, he exited the tent.

At least he remembered to reseal the net before leaving.

When it was once again quiet, Loki was left with the trepidation of having to sleep next to someone so close by. Stark had no reason to harm him, not while Thanos still breathed, but it wasn't his safety he feared for. The matter was pure and simple and so feeble that he hated to admit it to himself: it was discomfort. Loki had despised sleeping where others could see him for almost as long as he could remember. It was ridiculous and irrational and petty but he hated it anyway. Sleep left sleepers useless and vulnerable and in some cases, downright humiliated – not that Thor had ever had the grace to be embarrassed by his snoring whenever they had shared a tent, Loki remembered, then wished he hadn't. And then there was the matter of Loki's dreams. As of late, he had grown too tired to risk avoiding them. No one had ever mentioned Loki talking or calling out in his sleep or moving in his sleep but the fear that he did still lingered. Besides, there were very few people who could have known even if he used to.

The risk of Stark finding out his secrets was enough to make him contemplate not sleeping at all, but his limbs were weary and his eyelids were growing heavier.

When Loki heard the tell-tale footfalls of Stark returning, he had made up his mind. He lay on his side, face obscured from view and his back to where Stark's bed was, eyes tightly closed and breathing in and out in even rhythms. Stark didn't say a word. He moved with more delicacy and quietness than Loki had thought him capable of, making himself comfortable before whispering, "Lights out, Friday."

Then there was perfect darkness.

Loki forced himself to stay awake for hours and hours until he heard Stark's breathing get deeper and deeper before letting himself slip under.

***

The dreams came, as they always did. He dreamt of the green taint of the Soul Gem and the taste of his own blood in his lips and the Other standing guard as the overseer of his initiation to Thanos’s service. There was a new addition to his dreams: Thanos's fist squeezing and squeezing. He knew it was Thor's life being crushed even though he could not see him, he knew it in his gut, and yet he could do nothing but watch.

Something steered him back to the land of the awake, noises that were misplaced. Rustling and erratic breathing and thrashing. And it wasn't Loki.

Only when Loki had broken through the haze did he realise it was Stark, limbs twitching as if he was fighting off an imaginary monster.

Loki considered waking him but thought that both himself and Stark would prefer it if he did not acknowledge what he had witnessed. Awake, Stark was able to mask his fears passably well but asleep... Well, Loki was more content to pretend he was not aware of the mask at all. Seeing Stark so vulnerable was unsettling and it was only after seeing just how afraid he was that Loki found himself preferring Stark's usual nonchalance. No, Loki decided, he would allow Stark to keep up his pretences. So long as Stark didn't know that Loki knew, things would be normal... Whatever their normal had become. And besides, by the sounds of it, Stark would wake himself up before long.

Loki waited. Then waited some more. One of Stark’s legs kicked out and his fists were clenched tight, knuckles white.

How was he _still_ asleep?

Surely it couldn't go on for much longer. 

Loki considered throwing something at Stark to wake him but if he did Stark would know that he knew which wouldn't do. Therefore, it seemed the most reasonable course of action for Loki was to turn his back on Stark and try to ignore it. Which is precisely what he did, making a point of doing it as noisily as possible. He'd had hopes that the noise would stir Stark from sleep but there was no such luck. He closed his eyes again. There was another noise behind him, probably Stark lashing out with an arm this time. 

The more Loki tried to ignore what was going on, the more acutely aware he became of it until sleep was the furthest thing on his mind and he'd finally had enough. He turned, making sure to keep his voice as quiet as possible.

"Friday – wake him up," Loki whispered and at last he was able to resume his pretence of sleep.


	19. Chapter 19

The chirping of birds roused Loki from sleep and daylight seeped in through the tent walls, warmth trickling in along with it. Loki propped himself up on his elbows and cast a glance over to Stark, curled up in a tangle of blankets. His face was peaceful now, rid of the terror and anxieties that it had been during the night and Loki found himself taking care to exit the tent as silently as it allowed him.

When he returned from the lake after washing and filling the waterskins and collecting food, Stark was already out the tent and sitting in the grass, squinting up at the sun and dressed in cheap dwarven robes that only came down to his middle. It was an odd sight.

"Not my usual designer brand," Stark said, gesturing to himself. "But my Zeppelin shirt has officially got to the point of unwearable."

Loki tossed him his waterskin and Stark caught it. Then Stark took note of what else Loki was carrying in his hands and let out an exclamation that was a mixture of shock and disgust.

"What?" Loki asked, placing the carcass on the ground.

"What the fuck is that?"

"It’s duck," Loki said but Stark seemed no less alarmed. "I thought Midgard had them too.”

“We do...”

“We can't live off the rations we have indefinitely. It's far more sustainable to live off the land and save the rations as emergency reserves."

Stark moved closer, craning his neck over the carcass. "Fucking hell. Ugh, look at its beady little eyes."

"Stark," Loki said, "you act as if you have never eaten meat before."

"Normally, I get my duck off the menu and it's crispy fried and comes with rice, not feathers."

"I fail to see what difference it makes."

Stark turned away from the carcass. "I don't like my food staring back at me. And yeah, before you point it out to me, I know it's irrational and hypocritical that I'm perfectly fine eating meat that's already been prepared but not like this. It's not like I'm directly responsible for it being dead when I order or buy it, just, you know, indirectly."

Loki began to use his already blooded dagger to strip away the skin in the way he had seen it done and Stark began to make more exaggerated sound effects.

"Nope. No way. I can't... Ugh, I feel like I'm gonna puke."

Loki raised an eyebrow. "Before breaking your fast?"

"I'm hungry but not hungry enough to so much as touch any of that." Stark couldn't tear his eyes away from the meat, transfixed in morbid fascination.

Loki shrugged. "Then all the more there will be for myself," he said with vague irritation. He would have found himself something smaller if he'd known Stark was going to raise such a fuss.

"Major culture clash," he heard Stark mutter. And then, "Fucking Space Vikings."

Loki sighed. "If you wish to make yourself useful, we will need a campfire."

"Uh – isn't the smoke going to attract attention?"

"Not unless it becomes out of control. The elves often use small fires for their own purposes, ours shouldn’t stand out any more than the rest."

"Right." Stark visibly gulped. "I'll go– I'll go and do that then."

***

As it happened, Stark wasn't that opposed to eating meat once it no longer resembled an animal. Loki only had a vague idea of how the duck was supposed to be cooked, never having done it himself. Without any flavouring, the meat was dry and tasteless and chewy but Loki would rather eat than waste rations. Admittedly, he probably had overcooked it a little. The outer layer was slightly past the point of being charred.

With a single look, Loki dared Stark to complain.

Stark chewed – no, crunched – his meat with a face that said everything he didn't need to. Loki assumed he was too busy chewing to have the capacity to complain.

The reason for Loki finishing his portion out was of stubbornness more than anything else.

It was as if the two of them were waiting for the other to ask  _'_ _now what?_ ' but neither did. Getting the Time Gem had been their first goal and with their focus on acquiring it so intense, they had unknowingly overlooked all that which would have to come after it. The gem would only be the beginning of it.

Stark fiddled with the pocket watch continuously, as if it was a particularly pretty piece of jewellery that hung around his neck, and Loki found himself frequently drawn to staring at the shifting orange and yellow lights emitted from it as it if would give them answers. It wasn't an impossibility; the Tesseract had been known to communicate with those within a close proximity. In the early days when Loki held it, it hadn't shown him any visions or suchlike but it allowed him to feel its power for fleeting moments. He was indestructible in those moments and the world would have to succumb to his will instead of the other way around and none of the past was relevant anymore because he had the gem and the gem had him and nothing could stop them. But then it would withdraw back into itself and would only leave him craving more. It hadn’t retracted itself like that for some time but neither had it let him feel the full force of it.

“It's not as big as I thought it'd be,” Stark commented, eyes on the gem. His fingers toyed with the golden loops of the pocket watch chain, winding it around and around.

“I'd expect all the gems are a similar size, it's the size of their containers that vary.”

“Who made the containers then?”

That, as it turned out, was a very good question.

“Would that I could give you an answer.” Loki had tried to search for the answer when he had been pretending to be the Allfather in case it gave him new leads but hadn't managed to find anything of importance.

“The casings for them must be made of interesting stuff. For a start, they've got to be at least as strong as my arc reactors...”

Loki frowned. “What makes you say that?”

“Remember your little performance issue? You know, when you tried to tap me with the glow stick of destiny?”

“Ah.”

“You chose the wrong place to tap,” Stark said. “So – gem stuff. That’s what we’re here for, right?”

“Yes. I can attempt to teach you what I know, although what may apply to the Tesseract may not necessarily apply to the Time Gem. The gems are unique; I doubt there is a uniform way to wield every single one of them. They have wills of their own and you must remember that if you are able to harness their powers it is because they allow you to.”

“The wand chooses the wizard.”

“What?” Then Loki thought better of it and dismissed it as one of Stark's many offtrack Midgardian remarks. “Expect it to take time for you to gain control and precision. Do not be foolish enough to presume anything of the gem. It owes you nothing.”

Stark nodded. "Gem Etiquette 101." He scratched behind an ear. "You know, it's kind of ironic how I'm sitting here literally holding the objectification of time itself in my hand and time is the one thing we don't have enough of.”

“True,” Loki agreed, “but we are able to outrun Thanos for a while.” His eyes slid back to the chain and the gem inside the watch. “Can you feel it?”

"Of course I can, I'm holding it."

"No – can you _feel_ it?"

"Oh. Er… Not like that.”

“Even your species should be able to detect such strong signatures at such close proximities.”

Stark nodded, his attention wrapped up in the gem. He tilted it and when that achieved no result he gave it a gentle shake. Redder and yellower tendrils emerged and then dispersed like drops of ink in water.

“I–” Loki started. “I wouldn't recommend doing that. The last thing we need is for it to take a dislike to you or see your actions as an insult.”

The colours settled and the light was back to its original warm amber.

"Oh yeah, I'm supposed to be avoiding pissing it off. That uh– That might not come so naturally to me."

"Believe me, Stark," Loki said, "I am very aware of that."

Loki summoned the Tesseract to hand. It was slightly brighter than it usually was, energy coming off it like static. "Watch," he instructed. The Tesseract remained normal. Then Loki focused on that connection, the bridge between his mind and the gem, and the blues began moving as if they had charge and were reaching out for him.

"That's you?" Stark asked.

"Yes and no. That's the gem responding to me."

"Huh."

"Now,  _carefully_  - and I cannot emphasise that enough - open the lid."

Stark complied. The tendrils of orange were chaotic and patternless.

"See how the interior of the Tesseract has changed?" Loki asked. The blues were stretching towards the Time Gem but they were so weak they were barely wisps.

"What's that – some sort of embedded code that allows it to recognise the other stones?"

"Not code – sentience," Loki corrected.

"I scanned that sceptre of yours. And code and sentience aren't mutually exclusive; sentience is just an advanced form of coding thought patterns."

_Interesting,_  Loki thought. He had already heard about the debacle that had happened with the creation of Vision but had not heard it through Stark. "Surely in that case sentience requires some form of vessel."

"Well, yeah, the code needs something to run on. A brain, a machine, a hard drive, anything goes really."

"It requires physical matter to root itself in then."

Stark shot him an odd look. "I guess?"

"Then explain to me how it came to be that I was still very much sentient after I died."

Stark faltered for a brief moment. "Wait – are you about to argue that sentience is rooted in a person's soul?" He let out a burst of surprised laughter. "Sorry – I just didn't see that argument coming from the same guy who made the free will is an illusion speech in Stuttgart."

"They're not mutually exclusive," Loki said.

Stark's lip twitched. "Yeah, we might be getting a bit off track here. This is Gem Theory, not Philosophy Class. And what happened with you and the whole dying thing is something we're going to have to discuss some other time because –  _hello?_  – life after death actually being a thing would be one hell of a revelation. Other planes of existence, whether we have souls, and fucking _immortality_ – they aren't things I'm just going to dismiss if there's actual evidence for them. But I'm kind of busy at the moment. So, yeah – going back to the plan."

"Would that I had anything beyond a vague outline.”

“Wait a second - you don't? You've been the guy with the plan from the get-go.”

“Yes, well, there were a great many variables,” Loki admitted.

“Me being one of them.”

“And the whereabouts of the Time Gem was another.”

“And the priority is me somehow figuring out this thing,” Stark said, swinging the gem around his fingers. Loki cringed.

“I would not recommend treating it like that. It's hardly respectful.”

“I don't think it minds.” Stark held out the watch in his palm for Loki to inspect. “See? It doesn't look angry, it just looks kind of...like a kid at a birthday party.”

Loki raised an eyebrow. It wouldn't be the description he would have chosen. “I hope you're right about it not being opposed to it. For both of our sakes.”

Stark flashed a grin. “Maybe it got all attention deprived down there for who knows how many years.”

“Yes,” Loki huffed, “that might expect its peculiar tolerance for your behaviour.”

“But I was thinking, in order to master it–”

_“Mastering_ it is hardly necessary – it would take far too long and beings with far more power than you would have failed –  _wielding_ it on the other hand... I would hope that an adequate level of control would be sufficient enough for our purposes.”

“So mastering it is more like the premium non-restricted version of using the Time Stone and wielding it is the cheap freebie version.”

“I suppose that would be one way of putting it,” Loki replied.

“And you think we’ll be able to time travel using the freebie version?” Stark asked, taking Loki’s nod as confirmation. Stark let out a whistle of appreciation. “Sign me up.”

The majority of the day was spent continuing trying to forge the beginnings of a connection between Stark's mind and the Time Stone. Stark was able to grasp concepts and theories quickly, even adding his own speculation and insight, but he struggled to put into practice what he far too quickly dubbed as 'magical bullshit'. The Time Gem hadn't responded negatively in any way but it hadn't exactly responded positively either; it remained as erratic and inconsistent as it always had been. Loki hoped the lack of hostility in itself was a positive response. It had been kinder to Stark than the Tesseract had been to Loki in the beginning, although that might have had more to do with Stark's lack of ability to create a link between them, thus making himself a lesser known target. Stark called himself a man of science but for all that it helped him with his inventions, it severely hindered him making progress with the gem.

"Open your mind, Stark."

"I've been trying for the past four hours. All I'm getting is a headache."

"Try to feel the force of its power but do not grasp it for yourself, not yet."

"So you're telling me  _not_ to use The Force?"

"Just be able to sense it. Be receptive to it."

"You say it like it's that easy. How the hell is anyone supposed to just open their minds? Please don't tell me meditation. I'm gonna be very disappointed if your answer is mediation."

"I..." Loki struggled to explain how to sense power. It was like trying to explain how to see with a pair of eyes and hear with a pair of ears. "It's instinctual."

Stark snorted. "For you maybe."

"Your cynicism is only likely to make this more difficult for you."

"My cynicism doesn't have an off button, okay? I can't just press a button and all of a sudden start feeling weird mystic energies in the air or whatever."

Loki grew quiet for a moment. "Then I suppose a different approach may be in order."

"You mean one that doesn't rely on me having to completely suspend disbelief?"

“You have created your own form of artificial consciousness. Surely, forming a relationship with a sentient object is not incomprehensible to you.”

“When I coded AI, I understood it because I  _made_  it.”

“It is not necessary to have to make something to understand it.”

“No, but it makes it a hell of a lot easier.” Stark tried connecting with the gem again, visibly straining.

“If connecting with it requires effort, you are doing it wrong.”

“Your fortune cookie tips aren’t helping.”

Loki bristled. “Neither is speaking in that manner to the only person who can help you accomplish this.“

Stark forced himself to take a breath, closing his eyes. When he was done he held his hands up in a peaceful gesture. “Alright, what I’m trying to say is your understanding of things just doesn’t fit with mine. This–” he held up the pocket watch in one hand, “makes sense to you because you come from a place where magic is a thing and you all speak in metaphors and live for thousands of years. No wonder your way isn’t working for me. If understanding the gem is a factor in connecting with it, I’ve got to understand it  _my_ way. I want to scan it with everything I've got and see what makes it tick and what makes it go boom and what the hell it actually is.”

"And I take it your equipment to do that would be on Midgard?"

"Got it in one."

"You know why we can't return yet," Loki said, his voice quiet.

"I know. I'm planning ahead."

"And even if it was safe to return, it may still be highly dangerous for you to investigate the gem like that."

"I'm gonna be careful. There's no way I'm letting Ultron happen again; I’m not going to touch the code, just look at it. I'm thinking I start with gentle non-invasive scans, not launch straight in with probing. I wasn't being literal when I said I wanted to see what makes it go boom."

“Then I hope you are correct in your assumption that it likes attention.”

Stark let out a burst of laughter that didn't hold any true amusement. “Me too, buddy. It's a gut feeling.”

“But until we are able to safely return, the only course of productive action is–”

“Yeah, yeah, spiritual psychic gem connection time.”

***

With evening starting to draw in, Loki decided there was little point continuing with the day’s work and elected that they gather more food instead. They walked around the cliffs, and it wasn't until then that their perspective allowed them to see what was behind them apart from trees. Out to the left were stretches and stretches of carefully cultivated gardens populated by brightly coloured exotic plants, next to those were colonies of fruit bushes and trees, and farther behind them the woodland continued to grow, its trees older than Loki was.

It was hot enough that the back of Loki’s neck was damp with sweat and Stark had commanded his armour to walk with them instead of wearing it. The empty suit was still slightly unnerving, its presence had lingered next to them like some sort of ghostly spirit all day.

"What are those raspberry look-alike plants?"

"Those would be raspberry plants, Stark."

"That seems way too down to earth for a place like this. But hey – if we're passing through that direction we might as well take what we can, right? Unless there's a farmer Legolas who'll be pissed at us for stealing his fruit."

"The elves of Alfheim claim no land as their own. So long as we take no more than our fair share and cause no damage, I doubt we would encounter trouble should we be seen," Loki said.

"Speaking of being seen..." Stark said. "How likely is that?"

"We have much more of a real chance of being seen here than where we set up camp or on the sand."

"Does this mean I'm going to have to put up with one of your disguises again?"

"I doubt the elves would be able to discern the difference from a distance."

"I'm not leaving the suit behind."

"I wasn't about to suggest that it would be a good idea to," Loki replied. "Here." He rendered Stark’s armour invisible but saw no need to alter Stark's appearance, save for making his ears slightly more pointed and his frame taller.

"How bad is my face?"

"No different than usual."

"Have I got a nice set of ears? Please tell me I've got a nice set of Spock ears."

"They're lovely," Loki said, and if there was any condescending undertone he made no effort to disguise it.

Stark didn't seem to mind. "Awesome."

***

"I never thought I'd actually enjoy a piece of fruit this much," Stark commented when they returned to their path.

Loki made a non-committal humming noise in reply.

"Seriously," Stark said, "that stuff is good. I don't think I've eaten anything that tastes that good – especially not something that's fruit. Something must be wrong with me."

As they ventured deeper into the wood, the trees began to grow larger and larger until some of their roots were so big they could walk underneath them. Owls blinked at them from their perches and from time to time there'd be rustling and darts of movement from rabbits and foxes and deer. On their way, they walked past a huge badger den and Loki had to abruptly change direction when they crossed paths with the unmistakable prints of a bear.

They'd been trying to find landmarks so that they'd be able to remember where the locations of the hunting traps Stark had managed to piece together where. Two were by a small pond, another by the tree vaguely resembling a woman (as Stark had crudely pointed out), and the last they placed opposite the trees the elves had coaxed into growing like a bridge over the river. Loki thought it best not to advance any further after that, taking the bridge as a sign of the beginnings of an elven settlement.

During their journey back to the tent, they passed a number of tree hollows with space large enough for a man to curl up inside of, filled with so many flowers that the petals looked as if they were bursting out.

Stark had wanted a closer look and Loki had to explain why that was a bad idea.

"It's how they deal with their dead," Loki said.

"They're  _graves?"_

"The ones filled with flowers are, yes."

"Prettier than a coffin, I guess. Don't they get animals disturbing it? Because that doesn't sound so pretty."

"The Crimson Flower is something of a natural deterrent."

Stark looked intrigued. "Smells bad or something?"

"No. They are able to digest flesh. The elves see a certain poetry in being returned back to nature in such a fashion, although I do not pretend to be able to relate to it."

Stark moved closer towards one of the grave-burrows with fascination in his eyes. "Man-eating plants... We don't have many like this back home. What enzymes do they use to digest? How long does it take? Do they have any paralytic toxins they can inject? What about digesting other materials? Metal? Plastic? Plastic eating flowers would be one hell of an elegant solution to sorting out trash piles." Before Loki could answer any of his questions, Stark turned to him again. "I know I should respect the dead but I want one."

"Must I list all the reasons why that would not be a good idea? They can digest through layers of skin in seconds. I should not have to continue after listing that reason."

Stark raised his eyebrows. "Seconds? That's fast. Do they eat metal?"

"Not to my knowledge."

"Then I'm pocketing one," Stark announced. "Plant biology isn't my thing but I want one anyway. If I take one of the stray flowers, that makes it less bad – that's how it works, right?"

"Stark – no. Don't touch the petals or leaves!"

Stark gripped one of the nearest Crimson Flower by its stalk and pulled. "These would make terrible apology flowers. Remind me not to let anyone sniff them."

"By theNorns, Stark, why would you bother with such a thing?"

Stark shrugged. "Curiosity combined with an attraction to things that could kill me has kind of become my go-to answer."

"And that's worth the risk, is it?"

"I've made it this far."

Loki made a scoffing noise. "You and everyone else alive has made it this far – only because of not having died yet."

"Except you."

"Yes, Stark, except me. My thanks for that reminder."

"Look–" Stark made a show of delicately holding out the plant for his suit of armour to take and store away. "There. Safe now."

“Congratulations,” Loki said, rolling his eyes, “you now have a needlessly dangerous object within your inventory. And with that delightful new way you have found to accidentally maim yourself, I believe it’s time to be heading back.”

***

They'd learned after the first night to retreat early to avoid the nuisance of the insects. It was too bright to hope for sleep but too late to get anything of use accomplished.

Loki lay flat on his back with an arm over his eyes to attempt to block out the light and tried to clear his mind of thoughts. It was never so easy. Just when he'd begin to relax he'd be distracted by Stark scratching something or shifting his weight around and then he'd have to start the whole process over again.

Somewhere above the tent, a bird cawed softly, a creature at such peace that it seemed utterly alien.

"How long do you think it'll be before I can go home?" Stark asked and Loki had never heard his voice sound so small before. He wanted to shut his ears to it, to the audible pain and longing and desperation. His traitor mind thrust the memory of him visiting Thor on Midgard and Thor asking a similar question with that same vulnerability. Loki was glad his face was already covered by his arm.

"Are you certain you _want_ to go back?"

The rustle of blankets signified Stark shifting positions again.

"I  _have_ to," Stark said. "Whether I want to doesn't come into it."

Loki shifted his arm to give Stark a curious look. "Why? Why would you want to return there? Why would you want to see the ruins of what was your home?"

Stark visibly swallowed. "I can't stop wondering... I can't stop thinking about who could still be alive. If Thanos only kills those that fight against him..."

"There may well be enough of your people left for your planet to continue on," Loki finished.

"If we're lucky."

"And if you aren't so lucky?"

Stark's mouth was set in a hard grim line. "Then this time-travelling thing better work."

"Wouldn't not knowing be better than knowing an awful truth?"

Stark eyed him out of the corner of his eye, a look far too astute for Loki to be comfortable with. "I guess it depends," Stark said.

"What if the truth is so devastating that it destroys you and any chances you had of success with the gem?" Loki asked. Stark's mouth opened and then closed again. "What if your need to know the truth dooms the fates of all your friends?"

"Look, the not knowing part is already a massive distraction. At least if I know, I'll be able to refocus after..."

"Will you?" Loki asked quietly.

"I wouldn't have another choice," Stark said but he didn’t sound certain.

"Midgard sounds like an unnecessary gamble to my ears," Loki said, his words harsh but his tone the opposite.

"I can't... I can't go on now knowing indefinitely, okay? I'm just– I'm exhausted. All the guessing and the not knowing if I should be mourning or working and if I don't mourn then it means that there's no one to mourn them, or if I do mourn them it means I'm not working hard enough and–" Stark forced himself to take a breath. "I'm reaching the end of my rope here. There's only so long I can put it off. There's only so long I can convince myself to function without knowing. There's only so much distracting myself I can do before none of it works anymore."

Stark still clung on to hope, Loki realised. Regardless of how rationally-minded he could be and how much he knew the odds were against his planet, he still dared to hope. It was a dangerous thing.

"Are you certain?" Loki said, propping himself up on his elbows. "Absolutely certain?"

"This isn't– I've been thinking about this a lot. It's kind of hard not to. But the fact is is that if I carry on like this, I don't know how long we'll keep making progress for, except it's not gonna be long. At least if I know, there's a chance I'll..."

_A chance you'll be so deep in grief that you will guarantee their deaths,_ Loki thought but did not utter aloud.

Stark's face was taut. "You know, if the worst comes to the worst, I'd fight harder. I might end up thrown back a bit but..." Stark trailed off. "And even if I do end up losing focus, you wouldn't let that shit stick for long."

Loki found himself unable to respond to that. It was a strange sentiment, that of trusting his former enemy turned ally to not allow him to truly grieve. Did that make him ruthlessly cold-hearted or committed and dependable in Stark's eyes?

"I like to think that intervention on my part will not be necessary," Loki said stiffly.

Stark sat up straight. _"_ _Will_ not be?" Stark echoed. "Does that mean we're – I'm, I mean – going home?"

"If what you are saying is true then there are not many useful alternatives. Plus," Loki added, "I am beginning to believe that what you were saying about analysing the Time Gem using your own science and technology may have some merit."

"Oh." Stark blinked.

"Once enough time has passed to minimise the risk of the Chitauri or Thanos we will return to Midgard if you still wish it. I believe another fortnight or so should guarantee our safety as much as we could hope for."

Stark blinked at him again.

"What?" Loki asked.

"No– I just– I just wasn't expecting you to actually agree."

"Contrary to popular belief, I am capable of compromise, Stark."

Stark snorted, an abrupt contrast to his prior seriousness. "We’re not stuck in Pride and Prejudice, you know. I think we've passed that level of formality. I've had my hand in your mouth and you've seen me with my goatee in this state – if that doesn't merit being on a first-term name basis, I don't know what does. I mean, I call you by your first name so it's kind of common courtesy to return the favour."

"Anthony?" Loki said. It sounded wrong. Judging from Stark's expression of distaste, it sounded wrong to his ears too.

"What are you, my school teacher? It's Tony. Just call me Tony.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Tony and Loki talking philosophy: the fic' is a thing I wish existed. Until then, they'll be snippets of it happening where I can get away with slipping it in.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't understand how some people are able to be organised enough or have enough self-controlled to have chapter lengths that are actually consistent. So I don't know what you guys expect in terms of chapter length every time I update but here's a pretty long one. I think it might actually be the longest one so far. 
> 
> And in other news, I did genuinely think this whole story would come to 35 chapters but I might have to remedy that to something slightly higher (probably no more than an extra handful of chapters though if I do) as it just seems to keeps growing.

With plans of spending another day continuing strengthening or at least putting in place the connection between Stark and the gem, they'd headed out to check the hunting traps they'd lain before starting. Two were still empty, another was missing, and another had captured a hare with a badly broken leg.

"Ugh," Stark said, holding a hand in front of his eyes. "I feel like I’m personally responsible for everything that happened in Watership Down."

Loki picked up the limp animal, its fur soft underneath his fingers. He made a motion with his hands and it disappeared. "It's gone, Stark."

"Thumper's gone?" Stark lowered his hand. "And I told you – it's Tony."

"I had forgotten," Loki lied. Stark’s first name felt as it bordered breaching the terms of their alliance and he thought the man suited his surname better. Besides, he'd been calling him Stark for so long it would be difficult to break the habit.

The rest of their journey exiting the woodland had been uneventful, save for them spotting what might have been an elf peering at them ahead through the trees. Loki had given Stark an impatient tug after that, Stark being slightly preoccupied by examining a fruit bush he had not encountered before. For whatever reason they had drawn the elf's attention, it did not seem interested enough to follow as they returned to cook the meat.

The instant they'd finished eating, Stark brought out the pocket watch, apparently not deterred by the previous day’s lack of success.

"About approaching this from a different angle, as we discussed..." Loki said. "I have an idea that may be of use."

"’I’m listening."

"I believe part of the problem with you attempting to detect the Time Gem's magical energy is that you have no concept of what magical energy is supposed to feel like in the first place."

"With you so far."

"So if I was to direct a low level of my own magical energy towards you instead of you having to rely on detecting a passive signature..."

"Then I’ve got better chances of learning to detect it. Worth a try, I guess. So long as all the radiation isn't going to make me hulk out. Actually, screw that – _especially_ if it makes me hulk out."

"It will not harm you," Loki said. He had always been too invested in perfecting his illusions to stray too far down other branches of magic. He had gotten so far as to learn to coat an object with his magic as a prerequisite to transmuting objects, only without ever having much success with the actual transmuting part.

"Okay. What do I need to do?"

"Hold out both of your hands, palms facing up," Loki instructed. "I will direct energy at one of them. You will learn to tell which one."

Stark complied. "Alright. Hit me up."

Loki’s face remained perfectly still, his gaze giving no indication of which hand he chose as he folded his magic around it like a bandage. "Which hand?" Loki asked.

"Uh... Left?"

"Do not guess. Feel."

"Right?"

"You're still guessing, Stark."

Stark frowned. "It's Tony." His frown grew deeper. "I don't know what I'm supposed to be feeling here."

"Try not to overthink; use your instinct."

"Left. That was my first answer so I'm sticking with it."

"Is that your final answer?"

"Fuck it. Why not? Left."

"Wrong. Try again."

The first time Stark guessed correctly Loki brought out a bag of some of the fruits they had gathered. “An extra incentive,” he said by way of explanation. “But only when you are correct, of course.”

“Great. You’re gonna condition me like a lab rat. You should stay away from reading Skinner.”

It turned into a game of sorts that lasted for hours. Variations upon variations were added and retracted as they experimented. Loki tried getting Stark to state the first hand to enter his mind, tried getting Stark to make a carefully deliberated decision, and he even tried getting Stark to cut off his other senses. Whatever variations were made, there were no discernible differences. Occasionally Stark would have a streak of guessing the correct hand several times in a row and Loki would begin to believe the exercise might actually have been working only to wonder whether it had all been a fluke.

"What if I just end up learning to read you?" Stark had voiced. Loki had still not managed to substitute the surname for the former in his thoughts. It was getting tiresome to hear Stark insisting upon it whenever the surname slipped past Loki’s lips and so Loki had learned to omit calling Stark any name at all when addressing him.

"I doubt that will happen. There are some who name me the God of Lies." He’d only begun to understand the cruel irony in that title when he understood the truth of his origins. "But if it's a large concern, you may turn your back to me."

And so another variation began.

By the time evening began to fall, Stark's success rate had improved to the point where Loki had him guess which finger on a hand he was wrapping his magic around.

Stark fell into step next to him on their walk back from the cliffs to the tent.

"This thing still doesn't make any sense to me," Stark said, fiddling with the casing of the pocket watch. "It has the capacity to modify the whole of time and somehow its abilities are trapped within a pretty glowing stone that's somehow sentient. Seriously – and I’ve seen some weird shit in my time – none of this makes any logical sense. How did the gems just start existing? Did someone make them or where they always just kind of floating out there? And there's supposed to be six of them, right? Six of them that supposedly can control everything in the universe. We've got two. Thanos has three now. The only one still awol is the Reality Gem."

_Damn Odin for keeping that secret with him,_ Loki thought. Although perhaps Odin was in the best possible place; one where Thanos would never think to look for him and one where no one but Loki would be able to find him – except for possibly Heimdall if he thought to cast his gaze to the statues of Niflheim.

"And the Reality Gem is the one that makes the least sense," Stark continued. "If I was Thanos, that'd be the first I'd go for. If you can alter reality to make it anything you want then why would you need anything else? You could just click your fingers and bam – all the gems are yours.“

"You are assuming the gems are able to wield their control over other gems."

"Aren't they?"

"To some extent they must be. I was able to teleport you and the Time Gem with the Tesseract. But if I wished to directly meddle with the gem or have it attack another gem I am not certain what the consequences would be."

"Huh. Anyone actually tried it?"

"Not that I know of. But wars must have been fought over the gems, given how powerful they are and the length of their histories. I assume someone would have tried at some point."

"It's kind of weird that given the huge size of the universe, four of them ended up on Earth at the same time. Those odds must be batshit crazy."

"The Norns have a habit of manipulating to suit their own ends,” Loki said, traces of sourness tinging his tone. He had been – and still was – one of the things they manipulated. As much he resented the Norns for forcing the responsibility of the fate of the universe on him, knowing that there might be some semblance of chance was the closest thing to reassurance he could accept.

“Boy, you really have it in for them.”

Loki shot Stark a look. “I cannot possibly contemplate why.”

“If this whole thing actually works I don’t know if I should thank them or punch them. They’re supposed to see everything that could possibly happen, right?” Stark said. “Wanna know what I think? They’re messing us around. They could’ve given you step by step instructions but they didn’t. They could’ve bothered to pay me a visit but they didn’t. For all we know, they could’ve told every person with a with a special costume to fight in they’d be the likeliest to defeat Thanos. At least that way someone might actually manage because self-fulfilling prophecies and all. But we’ve no way of testing that without risking everything so...” Stark left the rest of the sentence unsaid.

The air was cooler than it previously had been and the difference in temperature meant that there were hardly any insects flying about. Once they had rekindled the fire, they sat on logs by it, cooking the rest of the meat they had and watching as darkness took over the sky.

"Huh. Look at that. Different sky. Different solar system. I wouldn’t even be able to difference just by looking."

"I hadn't thought you one to admire the view," Loki commented dryly.

"The sky's not that impressive, it's just a bunch of tiny dots of light floating in the sky. But the concept of them – planet-sized nuclear reactors so far away that by looking at them we’re looking light years into the past – even _I_ can appreciate that," Stark said, ruining any profoundness the statement might have had by giving a graceless wave upwards with his stick skewer. Stark – Loki sighed internally; he’d done it again, it was Tony, he insisted on being called Tony – took another bite of the meat on his skewer.

"Asgard is the only realm that nebulas can be clearly seen from,” Loki said. ‘I suppose most skies fail to measure in comparison once that is a thing you become accustomed to."

Something that might have been a drop of rain landed on Loki’s leg.

“That’s not how I pictured Asgard.”

“Dare I ask?”

Loki received a grin.

“I was thinking more along the lines of giant mead halls and every other building that doesn’t sell boar or something selling weapons. There’s got to be some sort of huge stone castle in the middle of it. There’s probably loads of fields with sheep and bulls and pigs around,” Stark said, pulling a face at the thought. “I’d pick city life over that any day even though I’ve heard Asgard’s got a pretty nifty bridge.”

“In terms of cultural ideology, that is not so inaccurate. In terms of technological advancement, I believe you have woefully underestimated Asgard.”

“You guys never had records or movies or TV. Most of you must be bored out of your minds.”

“Drinking, feasting, and tournaments are the most common forms of entertainment. Theatre is somewhat less popular.” Which wasn’t surprising, given the appallingly acted and scripted needless number of plays that did nothing but retell battles long in the past.

“So you’re way ahead with transport but way behind on entertainment and communication,” Stark said. “How long’s it take if you want to send a message? Days? Weeks? Could be months depending on how far away they are. Speaking of – how big is Asgard anyway?”

“Approximately the size of one of your larger Midgardian continents,” Loki said.

“Wait – you’re telling me that the legendary planet that rules over the Nine Realms is the same size as the moon? Are you kidding me? _The moon._ You’re basically a ping pong ball surrounded by beach balls and your planet somehow made itself king of them all.”

“With one minor difference,” Loki said, feeling a raindrop landing on his hand, “Asgard is not spherical; it is flat.”

_“What?”_ Stark gaped.

Another raindrop landed on Loki but he ignored it in favour of being entertained by Stark’s astonishment. “I believe you heard correctly,” Loki said as mildly as possible.

“I sure don’t.” Stark blinked. “Flat? Are you shitting me?”

“I’m not entirely certain what you intend to mean by that expression.”

“Are you having me on?”

“Oh, no,” Loki said, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“That doesn’t even make sense. Do you guys have a thing about breaking physics?”

“Surely, you of all people would know that physics is not a thing that can be broken, only revised in concept.”

“But it’s _flat_ – how the hell does that even work?” Multiple drops of rain filtered down from the sky, heavier than the preceding ones. “Shit. Is this gonna have to wait?”

Loki nodded grimly. The hairs on his arms were beginning to stand on end and already the stars were becoming obscured by thick clouds. “I believe a storm is coming.”

***

They got damp – well, Loki got damp as he did not possess sealed armour – adding extra reinforcements to the tent pegs and creating a small ditch to direct the water away but they still managed to get inside before the rain started lashing down in sheets. The sound of the water beating on the fabric of the tent was oddly soothing, although the sight of a steady flow of drops falling through a pucker in the fabric becoming heavier and heavier was not. Already, a small puddle had formed underneath it.

"Can't you just open your pocket dimension under it or something?" Stark asked.

"No." It only worked with objects Loki was holding. "And even if I could, I would hardly want to soak everything that's stored there–" Loki’s voice died when he heard the distant roll of thunder. It seemed as if Alfheim was determined to plague him with reminders of Thor, first the camping and the hunting and then there was this. There was nothing more Thor than this, nothing so impossible to ignore, nothing so loud and raw in power–

Lightning flashed from outside the walls of the tent.

Stark eyed Loki uneasily and held out a hand. “Might as well carry on with the magic game, right? It’s not as if there’s anything better we could be doing right now.”

It took Loki a moment to find his voice, he had been so lost in thought. “Very well,” he said. The wind had started picking up, he could feel it pushing at the walls of the tent. Loki wrapped his magic around Stark’s index finger. “Which finger?”

Stark lifted the correct finger. Loki offered him a berry as a reward. That was how the game worked. It was too mechanical and mindless to be a true distraction and by the time the wind was no longer gently pushing but shaking the tent walls and a small stream had started flowing somewhere underneath the floor, the game had trailed to a halt. There was another flash of lightning, brighter this time. The storm must have been getting closer.

“Gonna be in for a long night,” Stark sighed.

There was another roll of thunder and Loki failed not to think about his brother. Something in Loki's expression must have given him away because Stark said, voice soft and quiet, "I miss him too."

Loki's thoughts came to an abrupt halt. He recoiled at the thought of the thing that sounded far too close to pity for him to stand.  

"You barely knew him." Loki's voice was cold, eerily detached even to his own ears.

"He was my teammate – when he came down to visit us, that is. And yeah, I only knew him a handful of years but–”

“A blink of an eye.”

“To you guys, probably. I’m not gonna pretend we were besties or knew each other super super well or anything. Thor was one of those guys who’d class someone he’d just met as a new friend like a giant overexcited puppy–“

"Just _stop!"_

Stark closed his mouth.

Loki fought to keep his breathing even.

"Sorry," Stark said quietly.

Loki did not reply. He could not afford to. His voice might have cracked. He had been fine until Stark had started talking about Thor as if he wasn’t ever going to come back. When Loki started having to blink rapidly, he could no longer stand to be there. He muttered something about seeing to the ditches before climbing out, feeling the weight of Stark's gaze on his back.

It was a battle of the elements, the wind attacking his face and the rain making it impossible to tell whether any tears had escaped. The ground was mud all around the tent and the ditches they had dug had overflown. Loki closed his eyes and felt the full force of the storm; the pounding rain, the static in the air, the thunder that echoed through his skull. He did not know how long he stood like that but he did know that he stopped when he heard the unmistakable sound of something snapping.

Loki whipped around but there was no one there, only a broken pole sticking out of one side of the tent, the fabric collapsed around it.

Stark emerged a moment later and started fussing over the pole.

The fabric of Loki's clothing soaked him to the bone.

Another gust of wind blew and something in the fabric of the tent ripped. Stark stopped fussing shortly after that.

"Uh – don’t suppose you happen to have spare material in that handy pocket dimension of yours?" Stark asked, the sound of the rain plinking off his armour making the words almost inaudible. It was only with a sense of mild indifference that Loki realised Stark meant to avoid the weather. “Everyone knows you’re not supposed to stand near trees during a storm. So uh…that doesn’t leave us many options apart from dollar store tent over here.”

"There are rocks near the cliffs," Loki said. "We might be able to find shelter within them."

“Sure – there’s only the downside of risking turning ourselves into sitting conducting rods.”

Loki eyed Stark  – the man in the metal suit  – sceptically.

Stark caught his look. “Hey – I designed the suit and that means it’s actually designed well. It’d be pretty stupid to design a suit for flight without putting in measures against lightning. So I’m fine. I’m dry and if I get zapped it’ll just give the suit a nice boost. You on the other hand…”

“It would hardly be likely to put my life at risk.”

“Your call. So long as the lightning doesn’t hit the rock and decide you’re the best route to the ground, you’ll be fine. And if it does, you’ll still be fine. Fine with a side of singed.”

“It’s a risk I’ll take.”

***

The shelter they found consisted of an opening in some crags perched over the top of the cliffside. It was a natural crevice, vaguely triangular and too dark to see the inside of.

They had scrambled their way to the entrance, the rock treacherous and slippery underneath their feet.

Loki entered it first, his eyes adjusting to the dark. The gap was barely wider than he was and he could not tell how far back it went. As Stark followed from behind, there was a loud crunch of something underneath his foot but it was too dark for either of them to tell what it was.

"Hey – we got company," Stark announced and there was the sound of something stirring further ahead.

Knives appeared in Loki's hands and he crouched, ready to attack. Stark snorted.

"Loki, sir," Friday said, "you appear to be attacking a group of nesting birds."

Stark – Tony – unleashed a loud guffaw.

Loki relaxed his posture and threw a scowl at the man behind him. "You might have mentioned this earlier."

"I wasn't even _trying_ to prank you. You're just super on edge constantly. Ever heard the phrase 'knives at the ready?' Because that's you 24-7." It was said in more of an observational manner rather than an accusatory one, but Loki wasn't certain he liked the words all the same.

There was another rustle from the blackness and as one of Stark's hands moved it illuminated the floor they were stood on. Skeletons of fish were scattered over the rocky floor. Loki frowned at them. They were far too high up for them to have come in with the tide which meant that something must have brought them in for feeding on. But the only thing inside the crevice were birds, so what sort of–

Loki reached out to slowly grab Stark's arm and ease him backwards. They had been far too loud and far too conspicuous already. Any sudden loud noise or movement could–

Something rustled again – no, not just something – _somethings_ – and there was a dreadful ear-piercing screech followed by the flapping of wings, multiple wings, and suddenly the birds were on them. They came so fast and there were so so many of them. Huge ones, young ones, all flying out all at once, making it was impossible to tell one direction from another. Loki slashed and one fell to the ground, dead. More slashes and more kept falling but there were too many of them in such a small space. Stark's blasts only seemed to agitate the flock and they charged more frantically, in erratic directions like a swarm like bats cloaking their heads.

"Stark!" Loki managed to shout. "We must get out before–"

"Before what? This turns into a Hitchcock movie? Because – newsflash – that's already happened."

Loki fought his way closer towards the exit, bringing down another two of the birds with a single slash. "No – before they attack."

"You mean this isn't them attacking?"

Then Loki heard it, too far away for it to be over his own head, a dry hacking noise. He blindly threw a dagger in its direction as he stumbled another step. The noise hadn't stopped, instead it had progressed into more of a wet heaving and there was an unmistakable hiss and the _smell,_ what was the smell? The putrid stench made him gag but there was something else mixed in along with too, something Loki was struggling to identify. What could possibly–

Stark's armour, Loki realised. He batted the creatures with his arms, hardly bothering to waste time slashing anymore, there were too many of them. Loki just needed to be able to _see_.

_There._

Loki darted to the side and pulled Stark with him to the opening, running, running, dragging the stumbling weight behind him.

"You have to get out of your armour," Loki said, speaking so rapidly that his words almost blended into one. "Before the acid burns through to–"

"Wha– Ow. Ow. Fuck. Fuck!"

"Get out of your armour!" Loki shouted and Stark finally acted. Loki spared a glance behind him as he continued steering them away. Some of the birds were hovering by the opening like wasps outside of a nest, but they were not perusing.

The metal was still hissing and steaming from a section where the acid had eaten through the shoulder.

"Ack!" Stark clutched a hand to his wound. The skin underneath was a bright red but his hand was covering the worst of it. _“Fuck,”_ Stark cursed when his skin made contact with the burn.

"Stark–"

Stark was past words. His eyes were squeezed shut and his breath came out in hisses. Healing was not Loki's area, otherwise he could have... What was he thinking? He didn't need to resort to magical means for healing, he just needed water.

***

They appeared in the lake in the woodland. In retrospect, with the water reaching his knees, Loki realised he should have been more specific about appearing to the spot by the lake rather than in the lake itself. Evidently, he had been acting on impulse and the Tesseract had interpreted thoughts in more of a literal manner.

Stark plunged his shoulder underneath the water without any hesitation and string of curses interrupted only by hisses of pain began to quieten.

"Ow..."

"Let me see," Loki said, ignoring the unpleasant swell of the water around his legs.

Stark took his time straightening up, but he allowed Loki access, gently peeling the fabric out of the way. It was not as bad as Loki had feared. It had not gone through to the bone, as it would have done if not for the suit. A few layers of skin had been eaten away, more than a few in some areas, and some blotches were more purple than a shiny red. Was that exposed muscle? Loki didn’t know. Whatever it was, it would sting to be cleansed.

"It is not anything that won't heal," Loki said.

Stark gave the wound another dunking before asking, "What the fuck was that?"

Loki assumed Stark was not referring to his assessment. "That species of bird has a particularly nasty defence mechanism."

"What – like corrosive as fuck acid? See, to me that doesn't sound like a defence: that sounds like a weapon. I don't care if we stumbled into their nest. Those birds are feathered assholes. If you get a burglar sure, confront them, call the cops, but you just don’t throw up on them. I mean – look what they did to me."

"I just did. You should probably treat the wound with salt water when the currents are calm enough."

"Great. Another thing to thank those beaky little shits for," Stark muttered as he started wading his way to the land. Loki began to follow suit but then Stark stopped short.

"Uh – hi?"

The elf had been so still and so silent that Loki had not noticed it standing only several yards away. It had a willowy frame with hair so dark it blended into the night, and it regarded them with its head slightly tilted to one side. Loki acted quickly, adjusting the appearance of his and Stark's ears and hoping it was subtle enough that the elf would not notice. It pointed a finger at the hand Loki had held the Tesseract in.

"What was that?" Its voice gave it away as female.

Loki deliberated the advantages and disadvantages of answering her questions. If they disappeared, more elves may be alerted to their presence and they would have to relocate, but if they gave it a satisfactory answer it may prove its usefulness with its knowledge of healing magics and herbs.

"An object of mine," Loki answered.

The elf narrowed her eyes. "It's more than that."

"A _magical_ object of mine," Loki amended. He couldn't give away how powerful the Tesseract truly was, but there were certain things he could not feasibly hide; the fact that himself and Stark had suddenly appeared in the lake was one of them. "It hides us from sight when I command it."

"How unusual." Her face was hard to read. The lines in her skin might have made her face look kind if she had been smiling. "The water seems an odd choice of place to hide on a night like this."

"It was not by choice, I assure you," Loki said. "May we?" He gestured to the patch of land ahead.

The change was subtle but Loki spotted it: the desire to know behind her eyes. They may not have had her favour but they certainly had her curiosity.

"I will not prevent you," she answered and then frowned at Stark. "What happened to your shoulder?"

Loki intercepted. "My...companion and I ran into some trouble – or it would be more accurate to say that we were pushed into trouble. He received burns from some of the creatures nesting in the cliffs."

"It hurt," Stark added. Loki had to stop himself from giving him a nudge to remind him to be quiet.

"Then it seems you both have quite a story to tell. Come. It is safer deeper inside the forest where the trees have sworn to allow us no harm."

As she turned to lead the way, Stark's mouth fell open and then Loki did not stop himself elbowing him. He knew that look. It was the look he got whenever he found something ridiculous or implausible.

She smiled wryly at Stark. _Damn,_ Loki had thought she missed it.

"You are not from these parts, are you child?"

"Been a while since anyone's called me young," Stark said. "I'm flattered."

She cast him an odd look. "What an usual thing to be flattered by. I assume you have applied dovine leaf to the wound already?"

"Er..."

She turned to Loki. "Then you must not be from these parts either, to make such a basic error."

"We have travelled far," was all Loki said on the matter.

"Under normal circumstances," she said, "I would point you in the correct direction and let you go on your way. But given the level of incompetence I have witnessed so far and the risks the weather poses at the moment..." She let out a shrill ear-piercing whistle. At first nothing happened but then there was the sound of something coming and closer towards them until it emerged from between the trees: a stag, tall and magnificent – that was until it hobbled towards her, limping on one leg. "Given that you have travelled far and your companion is injured..." The elf unleashed another two whistles and another pair of the creatures emerged from the forest. A stag for each of them, Loki realised, but instead of standing next to them, the creatures were reluctant to leave the side of the elf, using her as some sort of shield.

"You'll have to forgive us," Loki said by way of explanation, "we are not used to such creatures in our homeland. I think they sense our...lack of familiarity."

The elf frowned. "I have never witnessed such a thing amongst our own kind before."

Loki forced a light laugh. "I have no wish to cause such distress to the creatures. We will elect to follow on foot instead."

"You’ll have no other option," she said, mounting one of the stags. It nuzzled at her as she did so and allowed her to stroke its ears before she set a slow pace, keeping between Loki and Stark as she rode.

They travelled in silence at first, the only sound the sound of their steps falling on the ground.

"Where are you from?” the elf asked abruptly. “I have not seen your faces before."

Loki had to think quickly. "The marshlands." That should suffice. It was a small region of Alfheim that would explain their lack of familiarity with woodland creatures and plant life.

"My," she said, "that _is_ far."

Loki nodded. "It has been a long journey." He hoped his rather redundant reply would discourage her from asking further questions.

"Which route did you take?"

_Damn._

It had been such a long time since he’d last travelled Alfheim, let alone studied it. But his memory was able to serve him well.

"The Gogarn River at first," Loki said. The elf said nothing. "Then by foot."

"Goodness." She hopped off the stag. Her movements were graceful even by elven standards for her age, neither elderly nor middle aged but falling somewhere in between. "Come," she commanded, "I will show you where to find the leaves to treat your wounded friend." She didn't glance backwards to check whether they were following, making her way through a section of the forest too narrow for the stag to pass through and into a cranny formed by overhanging roots. She pointed to a deep blue flower growing above them. "These will be easiest for you to find. The sapphires that grow, they are known as. The flower itself is useless but the leaves are excellent for neutralising burns." She took a step backwards and gestured for them to inspect it closer.

“Do I just take off a leaf?” Stark asked.

“That is correct,” she answered. Just as Stark's fingers touched the stem she spoke, her voice cracking like a whip. "Seize them."

Loki only had enough time to react to conjure his daggers against the unknown threat. They did him little good. Roots coiled around his arms and legs, yanking him close, the grip not allowing him to so much as move. Loki struggled, but each limb was held firm and the roots were too strong to break apart. Each one was thick, too sturdy to be cut or snapped, and the tree had ensnared one of his and Stark's legs together.

_Wonderful,_ Loki thought dryly.

"Aw – come on!" Stark moaned. "What've we done this time?"

"You tell me," she said.

Loki thought it prudent to have his say. "I do hope you are not normally in the habit of trapping those who have done nothing to cause you offense.”

Her eyes narrowed.

"You lied," she accused. Loki opened his mouth to deny it, to fashion another lie, to persuade her to change her mind, but she did not let him speak. "More than once. The Gogarn River has been too dry to travel on for decades,” she said. Loki blinked at her. “And that cube you held does more than hide you. I can feel the magic on you, even now."

"Alright – alright," Stark said, "you got us. You're smart. But honest – we're actually the good guys here."

She scoffed. " _Honest_ , you say? Why, even the skin you wear is a lie. That's what the cube does, doesn’t it? It does more than merely hide you; it disguises you as whatever form you wish it to." Wrong. So wrong. But if she believed the Tesseract to be some sort of artifact of illusion then Loki was not going to correct her. "You are not of Alfheim," she said. "Neither of you are. I don't know what your purpose here is or what you intend to–"

"Our intention," Loki said, "has been what it has been for a long time: to prepare."

"Prepare?” She put on a show of listening with rapt attention. “Pray do tell."

"There is a foe who approaches. He will slaughter the whole of the Nine Realms if he sees it as worthy enough of the effort."

"From what I have witnessed, the only foe on Alfheim has been the pair of you."

"But we haven't actually _done_ anything." Loki hated how the sentence made him sound, like a petulant child.

"So you are not responsible for injuring my companion, is that what you are claiming?” The stag, Loki realised with a sinking feeling. “You are not responsible for putting in danger all the animals of the forest who may have fallen prey to your traps? Do you know how many years it has been since the creatures we share our lands with have been hunted? Did you truly believe anyone could disrupt the peace like that without us noticing?"

Loki closed his eyes shut in exasperation but before he could attempt to remedy the situation, Stark broke in.

"We might have fucked up a bit there," Stark said. Loki would have pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration if he had been able to. "But that doesn't mean we don't have good intentions. If you class us an enemy because of hunting in your nature reserve then we've got nothing on what’s coming."

"Is that a threat?” she asked, her voice dropping in pitches. She directed her gaze behind them. “If you don’t mind,” she said to something behind them, her voice suddenly warm and polite. The roots tightened.

"Whoa – easy there Zelda, we haven't even established a safe word yet."

Loki and the elf both ignored the comment. Loki forced himself to sound if not cordial, then at least civil. "As I am sure you are able to understand, the truth in this instance is far less easy to accept than a lie."

She smiled but it was barely a smile; it was more of a flashing of the teeth. "Is that a subtle attempt at flattery? Much to your inconvenience, I am sure that I do not believe a single word that passes through those tainted lips of yours."

"Then I believe we are both wasting our time," Loki said. His limbs were bound but there was nothing to stop him summoning the Tesseract to hand.

She eyed it scornfully. "There's little point in hiding when I am already aware of exactly where you are."

"How about it, Stark?" Loki asked.

"How many times? It's Tony."

"Tony then. I grow weary of this place."

"Yeah, I'm not feeling in the mood to be tied up anymore. It's kind of lost its edge."

Loki lowered his voice. "If we returned to Midgard, would you–"

"Yes. Let's do it. Need a quick stop to pick up my suit again on the way though."

"Very well."

The elf was a combination of bewildered and panicked and she rushed forward, lunging for the Tesseract.

"Farewell," Loki called.

"Don’t give us a call."

And then because Loki couldn't help himself, he added, "I do hope you enjoy this next trick."


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly earlier chapter than usual! I'm going to be away this weekend so I thought it'd be better early than potentially late due to a lack of wifi.

It was the first time that teleporting did not cause either of them the slightest bit of discomfort.

The top of Stark Tower allowed a view of the majority of the city. No Chitauri. No signs of Thanos. A number of the buildings were in a state of being rebuilt and the inhabitants of the city were still bustling around as if their species hadn't faced a threat that could have reduced them to extinction only recently. Loki possessed a grudging respect for that resilience. If the people of Midgard had, for the most part, managed to survive Thanos then maybe it would not be impossible for the people of Asgard too. Except that would require a surrender, a concept Asgard was not familiar with unless it involved others surrendering to them. 

Stark remained stood, stiff and tense, his eyes unfocused and a slight tremor in his hands.

“Welcome home, Boss,” Friday’s voice emitted from somewhere within the walls. Stark did not appear to register it. “You appear to have an alien fugitive with you.”

“He’s… He’s not a problem. Take it you’re still syncing up with the suit then.”

“Synchronisation is 44% complete. And consider my lips to be sealed on the matter of the fugitive,” Friday said. Loki wondered how a programmed mind could have such a strong grasp of irony. “There are 104 messages waiting for you. Would you like me to contact Miss Potts to tell her you have returned?”

“Pepper?”

“Yes, Boss.”

“Pepper’s still alive...” Tony breathed.

“Yes – she has been leaving increasingly concerned and frustrated messages for you.”

Stark – Tony – smiled softly. “Put her out of her misery then.”

“Is there anything else I can do?”

“Not yet.” With a grimace, Tony made his way towards the window to gaze out at the city. “It's here.” His voice was stunned. He rested his forehead against the window and gave a delighted laugh. “It's all still here!”

Loki wished he could share his joy. The relief of not facing an imminent attack upon the moment they arrived should have been enough for him, but his thoughts were for the realm he’d called home.

"Look at them all!" Stark said, positively giddy and pointing at the people of Midgard scurrying around in the streets below them.

Loki tried not to think about what this would mean for Asgard, about how Thanos must have been eager to be done with Midgard as quickly as possible.

"I kinda thought there might be a huge crater where New York used to be. Or that we'd come back and it’d be a giant ghost town," Stark said. "But it just looks so…normal. Look – look at that guy, right there. Just delivering some donuts. And that lost tourist on the sidewalk. And the cab that’s parked exactly where it shouldn’t be… I never thought I’d miss all that.” He turned to Loki. “So anyway – welcome back to New York," he said, "here's to hoping your stay will be better than the last one." His smile fell a fraction. "Hey – what’s with the long face?"

Loki shifted his expression back to one of neutrality with as much haste as he could.

“Seriously,” Tony said, “we got away. We got no Chitauri on our backs and–” he broke off. “Actually – about that. What happened to the rest of your little team of buggy aliens anyway?”

“I… My position of their battle commander is no longer in place.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? You got mutinied? You got a demotion?”

Loki was spared having to answer by a door opening and a red-headed woman approaching them with alarming speed.

“Pep!”

”Tony! Where the hell have you been? I thought you were gone!"

Stark wrapped his arms around her, eyes squeezing shut. "So did I."

"I came as soon as Friday said you were back. What’s been going on? Why couldn’t Friday locate you? Are you safe? Why haven’t you been answering my calls? Why didn’t you let anyone know where you were? I didn’t know whether to be angry or worried." It was only as they released each other that the woman noticed Loki's presence. "I didn't realise you had company, Tony." She turned to Loki. "I'm..." Her voice trailed off as she assessed Loki. "I'm sorry, have we met? You look familiar. Are you a new member of the team?"

"He made the headlines a few years back," Tony said, which Loki supposed was technically true, "and he’s not exactly a new team member. We’ve uh... We’ve got a sort of partnership thing going on."

She masked her shock with surprising professionalism, holding out her hand as an offering. "Pepper Potts."

"Loki," Loki said, allowing her to shake his hand. He still felt the silence in the air that should have been filled with the rest of his title.

She dropped his hand. "Wait. That Loki? The one that–"

"Yeah, he's that Loki," Stark butted in before Loki could answer for himself. "But we're on the same side now so it's all good."

She was quicker than most to compose her features. "If you'll excuse me," she said, addressing Loki, "I need to borrow Tony. _Now._ " She pulled at Stark’s elbow and steered him into an adjacent room.

And that was how Loki found himself awkwardly perched on the edge of a settee with little else to do with himself but wait. He had nowhere else to go. Nothing to occupy himself with except for speculating on what might have been being said. Occasionally, her voice would rise and he heard something about trust and fear come through the walls, no doubt that the topic of conversation had turned to himself and their alliance. Their alliance had seemed far more intact before outsiders had started questioning it. Half of him wished Stark's answer had been loud enough to hear, the other half was glad it was inaudible.

Loki fidgeted with his hands as he waited. Their voices had grown quieter, calmer.

There was a click of a door opening.

“Please don’t put me through that ever again,” Loki heard her say.

“Not if I can help it.”

There was the sound of their footsteps getting louder behind him. Loki rearranged his features to look as nonchalant as possible.

"Don't get me wrong, Tony," she said, "I'm happy you're okay. I just worry about you, that's all."

"Not your job anymore," Stark teased.

"Don't be stupid. Whether I worry about you doesn't depend on what my job or our relationship status is."

Stark sounded sheepish when he spoke next. "Yeah, sorry about that."

"You are a ridiculous ridiculous man," she said, heading towards the door that led to the exit. "As for you," she said with a sharper edge, pointing at Loki, "if you ever decide to drag Tony off planet again, you call me first.” Loki blinked at her. “And if Tony gets so much as a single scratch because of you–"

"That would hardly be in my best interests now, would it?" Loki replied with a forced roll of the eyes. He did not possess the energy to discuss the futility of her threat or point out that Stark had already received a wound because Loki had not been quick enough to stop it happening.

"Come on, Pep. I'm a big boy who’s managed to survive so far, remember?"

"I know. It's the future of your survival that worries me," she said. “Talk to me. Or somebody else – anybody. I know you’re not fully ready yet but when you are…” She gave Stark a final embrace before she departed.

It was quiet when she left.

"I didn't know if I'd ever see her again," Tony said quietly.

"How fortunate it is for you that fate acts in your favour." Loki did not do a good job of disguising the bitterness in his voice. Thanos had come and Stark still had his home, he still had a friend who cared deeply for him, he still had most of his people alive. Loki didn’t have the heart to wish to deny him any of it but the roots of envy had already taken hold. _Pathetic,_ he thought. _Envious of a mortal._

“Fate?” Stark snorted. "Even if such a thing exists – which I'm pretty sure it doesn't – then yeah, this time fate was in my favour. Makes a nice change.”

Darkness coloured Loki's voice. "You think yourself a victim of fate?"

"No – I just told you I don't think fate even exists. But shitty things happen to everyone, myself particularly included."  Stark took one look at Loki's expression and said, "I'm not getting into a trauma competition with you. By the sounds of it, you didn't always used to be so...supervillainy. I have it good authority that you used to be a nice-ish guy. I used to think that was just Thor's–" Loki flinched at the name, "–blind-spot for you but you seem to have dropped the whole supervillain act."

"Act?" Loki repeated.

"The guy I met five years ago and the guy sat in front of me aren't the same person. No one changes that much in such a short period of time which means that you must’ve been performing, either now or back then. I’m betting it was back then when you put on one hell of a show trying to crown yourself king of the planet. Don't get your feathers in a ruffle, I'm not accusing you of being a good guy, I'm just observing out loud that while you're not exactly evil, you're still kind of...morally dubious.”

"Well thank goodness for that. I could hardly continue with this partnership if I lived in fear of you misinterpreting my cooperation for good-will."

Stark laughed and in that moment he looked much more like a Tony.  His face quickly sobered. “On a serious note, Pepper said something weird.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Hang on – I’ll tell you on the way. You haven’t had a tour of this place yet, have you? We’ll have to figure out which rooms you’ll be staying in – luxury mattresses, you’ll love them – and you’ll need to know where the kitchens and bathrooms and all the facilities are. I had a massive clear out a couple months back because I was planning on selling the tower but I uh… I got preoccupied.”

Loki rose from his seat to follow. “And what did your fellow Avengers have to say about that?”

Stark’s face flickered. “They don’t know.” He scratched behind an ear. “We kind of– We kind of broke up.”

“Ah,” Loki said.

Stark straightened himself. “Yeah, but enough about that. Come on, I’ll show you around. And then the first thing I’m gonna do after that is have a decent shave, take a shower, order a takeout and...” He trailed off. “I guess I can’t put off finding out who’s still standing any longer after that.”

“Stark,” Loki began. Stark shot him a look. “Tony,” Loki corrected himself, “I have been thinking about this dilemma of yours and I have an offer to make you.” Tony looked sceptical. “What you need is somebody to access whether you are capable of still functioning with this knowledge, yes?” Loki asked. Stark remained stoic. “I believe I could find out on your behalf. You could consider it a favour. For your hospitality.”

"And how'd that help?" Stark’s voice lacked its usual friendliness.

“Boss?” Friday’s voice sounded from the walls.

“Not now, Friday. Mute.” Stark turned to face him, waiting for an answer. “Well?”

"If I deem you capable of handling the truth, I shall inform you of it. And if not..."

“And if not – then what? You make up something? That’d just mean that either way, I’d still be wondering if you were lying or not. That doesn’t solve the problem. If I’d wanted that, I could just ask Friday to do it for me.” Stark shook his head. “No. I’m not gonna do that. I owe it to these people. They were my teammates. They had my back.” Tony touched his elbow, a subconscious movement. “Some more than others.” He dropped his gaze. “Some might have chosen to _stab_ me in the back instead of watching it but I still just can’t…not know.”

_Sentiment,_ Loki thought. It could get in the way of everything.

Loki gave a quiet nod. “On with the tour then?”

“Yes!” Stark reached for the door handle but before he could grasp it, it opened from the other side, revealing a man standing behind the other side of the door.

"Rhodey!" Tony exclaimed. He rushed forward to wrap his arms around the man an instant later. The man – Rhodey, Stark had named him – looked baffled. "How are the legs doing you?" Stark released him to take a look.

It was at that moment Loki noticed what the man appeared to be wearing. The resemblance to Stark’s armour was indisputable, but where Stark’s armour covered his whole body, this armour only covered the lower half More peculiarly, it appeared to lack the features for the armour to be weaponised which begged the question of why–

It was only when Rhodey began to walk further into the room with a stiff unnatural gait that Loki realised that the armour’s purpose was not to be armour at all.

"They were doing great up until they needed a minor upgrade and couldn't find my favourite mechanic. Um, Tony – not that I’m not touched that apparently you’ve missed me – but where the hell have you been? I thought we were over you going awol–" The man noticed Loki's presence and broke off. Loki and Rhodey stared at each other. “Uh – Tony? You don’t seem to be anywhere near as alarmed as you should be to have this guy in the same room as you. You didn’t tell me this was a code red. I’d have suited up properly if this was a code red.”

Stark placed his hands on the man’s shoulders. "Relax. Long story short, he kidnapped me but it was kind of essential and for the greater good etcetera. We're uh...working on a project."

"A project," Rhodey said flatly, eyes narrowed and not leaving Loki.

“Trust me,” Tony said, “I wouldn’t have brought him back here if he was still a threat.”

“No,” the man said. “you wouldn’t have brought him back here if you _thought_ he was still a threat.”

Stark shrugged. “Same thing. Can we lighten up a second? One: I’ve just got back, and two: you and Pepper are still alive.”

Rhodey frowned. "Of course we’re still alive.” He eyed Loki again. “You sure he's not a threat?"

"I assure you, I bear no ill-intent towards your realm or its people," Loki said. He lowered his head and grinned, revealing his teeth. "Currently speaking, that is."

Rhodey stepped between him and Stark, presumably with the intention of forming some sort of human barrier that failed to encourage Stark to move further away from Loki. "Yeah, that's not reassuring. Tone? Can you fill me in a bit? Why’s the guy who led an alien invasion in New York in here like you just invited him over for movie night? And why the hell did you think me and Pepper might be in danger? Can you explain that one while you're at it?"

"I didn't hear anything from you or see anything during..." Tony trailed off and waited for his friend to fill in the rest of his sentence but his friend only remained utterly perplexed. "You know, during the battle."

"The battle? What battle?"

_"The_ battle."

"Tony, I still don't–"

"All of us versus the big purple guy. Thanos. I blacked out early on and this guy–” he jerked a thumb at Loki ”–intervened but we still lost. That's why I didn't know what happened to you."

Rhodey shook his head. "Tony, I don't know what the hell you're talking about."

"The Chitauri invasion point two. Come on – the guy who made even _Thor_ nervous. The guy Thor warned us about and then every powered personnel in the whole fucking state and then some had to club together to fight in the space of a few hours. The guy who made me agree to be on the same side as Rogers for fuck's sake!"

"Tony..." Rhodey spoke slowly and quietly. "That never happened. This guy... Thanos? He never invaded, there was no war, you didn't lose anything. I don't know what you think happened but nobody's dead, we're all still alive. No one lost anyone."

Tony froze and Loki froze too.

"But–" Tony uttered.

“You’ve been compromised,” Rhodey informed Stark. “Friday – Tony’s in danger. Send Veronica over here _now.”_

"What did you say?" Loki demanded.

“Tony – you have to trust me.” The man shook Stark by the shoulders when he didn’t respond. “We have to get out of here.”

“What did you say?" There were leaks of a terrible desperateness in the cracks of Loki’s words. "Tell me what you just said."

"Look," the man pulled Stark further back, Stark stumbling over his feet, "I don't know what you've done to Tony but you can drop the act. You've been found out. Come one step closer and I will unleash the force of a hundred missiles right at you. Probably won't be enough to kill you, but it'll hurt for sure."

"He said it never happened..." Stark murmured, eyes distant and uncomprehending.

"Tony– Tony–" Rhodey spoke. "You _have_ to listen to me. He’s– I don't know, he's tricked you somehow, he got you real good. You have to believe me when I tell you everyone's still alive. You never lost to Thanos... This guy right here? He’s the guy you lost to. I’ve got to get you out of here, we've got to–"

"They're alive?" Stark's voice was small. "All of them?"

"All of them – Vision, Bruce, your Spider Kid, Tasha, even Wanda and Clint and–"

"What of Thor?" The words escaped Loki’s mouth before he could process them.

"I told you to drop the act! Come any closer and I swear I’ll–"

Knives appeared in Loki’s fists.

“I said,” Loki repeated, low and dangerous, “what of Thor?”

“Whoa there!” Stark was suddenly in between them, holding them apart with his hands. “Loki – don’t pull those on Rhodes, just–”

There was an almighty crash from the window and before Loki could fully comprehend what had caused it, he was surrounded by a metal casing that assembled itself around him and encased him in a small prison of its own making.

“You think a wall’s gonna stop him?” Loki heard Stark ask.

“No. But it’ll give us so time to get out of here.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Loki appeared in a flash outside the walls again.

“Oh – hey, Lokes,” Stark called. His ploy for attention did not succeed.

“Thor,” Loki rasped, advancing on the man who would not give him the answer he needed.

Stark moved to stand in his way.

“Don’t touch my Rhodey,” Stark said, then turned his head. “And Rhodey – it’s not worth it trying to contain Loki. That attempt was actually kind of embarrassing.”

“That’s it,” Rhodey said, “I’m officially out of my depth. I’m calling for backup.”

“No you’re not,” Stark said. “Just hear me out. Come on – it’s like you don’t even a little bit.”

Rhodey’s eyes were on Loki. “It’s not you I don’t trust, Tony.”

Loki made his move, shifting Stark out of the way with a single hand and stalking forward.

Rhodey took a step backwards. “Uhh – Tony? I’m kind of unarmed here…”

Something touched Loki’s back.

“Hold it, Reindeer Games. We’re gonna figure this out, okay? And we can’t do that if you try turning Rhodey here into a voodoo doll. Also, I’d have to stop you turning Rhodey into a voodoo doll. I happen to like having him around.”

Loki came to a still. “Thor,” was all he said.

“Well?” Tony asked. “How about Thor, Rhodes?”

“I… Alright, I’ll tell you what I know,” the man said. “If we know for sure you’re not being duped.”

Loki raised his knives again. Something – no, someone – grabbed his wrists.

“Loki – look at me.” It was Stark. “This isn’t something you can solve with knives.”

Loki shook Stark off him.

“Hell,” Stark said. “I never thought I’d say this but can we actually sit down and talk about this like adults? Rhodey, I get why you’re suspicious, genuinely I do. But take my word for it – you’re wasting your time and you’re just winding him up. Give the guy a break, he deserves to know.”

Rhodey’s eyes flickered between the two of them. “This is the only leverage I have against him, Tony. I have information he wants to know.” He spoke as if Loki was no longer in the room with them. “If you can prove Loki’s not going to do something like Obadiah did or worse then fine, I’ll tell him what he wants to know.”

“Loki isn’t lying,” Tony said.

“He’s the _God_ of Lies, Tony.”

“You didn’t see his face when…” Tony broke off. “I don’t think he could’ve faked that. My gut says there’s no way in hell he’s faking this, you weren’t there when–”

"Your gut instinct? _That's_ the reason he's still here and not locked away some place secure? Have you forgotten who he is? What he's done?"

"Of course I haven't! Don't you think I had the same suspicions as you? That I asked myself the same questions you're asking?" Tony took a deep breath. “I'm not saying it's impossible that he lied, okay?” Tony admitted and Loki was surprised when the words stung. It was stupid, idiotic. He should have been used to this by now. “I just think we should find the answers ourselves."

"I’m all ears.”

"Good,” Tony said, “because I've got an idea."

***

Loki didn't speak. Stark's doubt was more troubling than it should have been and yet a small voice in his mind whispered that he'd earned it after all. It shouldn't have felt like a betrayal. They were allies, not friends, temporarily cooperating to achieve a mutually beneficial goal. Trust had nothing to do with it; necessity did. It sickened him that somewhere along the way he must have started seeing Stark as some sort of companion, like some sort of rogue pet he’d started craving approval from. The prospect of facing Thanos must have made him so utterly desperate for some semblance of company that he must have latched on to the idea that anything was better than having to do it alone and–

"Loki? I’ve got something I want to run past you.”

Loki's lip curled.

"What?" After everything that Loki had done, what could Stark possibly want from him? Loki had been expecting a fight; no doubt that it would be the two of them against him if it came to blows – but he couldn’t risk damaging Stark and the other man was too aware that Loki needed him alive because of the information he possessed as well as the reverse being true – and so they were left in an odd stalemate.

"BARF." Stark held up some sort of device in his hands. "Or an early prototype version of it anyway, before all the memory mod stuff started getting involved. Stands for Binarily Augmented Retro-Framing. If you agree, we'll be able to verify you're not lying about your memory of what happened."

“Tony – do you think there’s any chance he’d be able to fake the memories somehow with his magic or something? I mean, BARF isn’t infallible, right?”

"Actually," Tony said, "he can't. Not deliberately anyway. The interface connects to the neurons inside the hippocampus. What he remembers is what we’d see. And he can't actually modify the physical properties of what we see with his magic, that’s not how it works. He can disguise it or add layers over the top of it but if he did I’d be able to feel it so..."

For a moment, Loki struggled to breathe. "You–" he managed to say out loud. "You want to see my memories. You're– You're asking my permission to access my mind."

"Wouldn't do it if I didn't have to."

Loki swallowed back against the wave of horror.

"Look," Tony pacified, "you don't have to fully relive the memory if you don't want. All that happens is you wear these," he said, holding up a pair of glasses, "and it’ll scan your brain. It's non-invasive, non-permanent, totally safe. You’d be asked a few prompt questions about the memory and it'll be able to bring the scene out for us to watch."

_To watch?_

Loki shook his head. "I can't let you do that. I can't do that. I _won’t_ do that."

Tony's eyes were pleading. "We can only see the memories you think of in detail. We can't force any information out of you with it, I specifically designed it so it could never be used like that if it fell into the wrong hands."

Loki's lips were a bitter twist. "All I have is your word. That's...not enough."

"And all I have is your word that you didn't fake the entire thing. Stalemate. This is how we get out of it."

"By having me blindly trust you not to intrude upon the rest of my mind?"

"Hey – I've been blindly trusting you not to kill me for how long? I tagged along with you on your fucked-up planet-hopping adventures through space and went along with your plans even though the entire time I didn't know whether everyone I ever cared about was alive or not. And not a single fucking time did I ask you to do me a favour. Let's face it – if you were in my position, you wouldn't be nicely asking me to wear this, would you?"

Loki did not reply. Could not reply.

"If I proved to you that BARF is 100% safe, would you think about it at least?”

Loki’s mouth was dry, his thoughts racing. The concept of his memories being brought to life like some sort of play for all to watch made his skin crawl. But he had to know. If what Stark’s mortal friend had said was true, if all of Stark’s allies and former teammates alike were still somehow alive then maybe… It didn’t make any sense. None of it made any sense. He'd watched it happen, he was there when it happened, he couldn't unsee what he had witnessed.

But if there may be hope for Thor without even having to intervene with the gems...

Loki found himself having reached a conclusion.

“Fine,” he said. “I shall consider it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are reasons for these things happening, reasons that’ll come into light shortly.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet another chapter I didn't get to my beta in time. If there are mistakes, they'll be my own fault.

The device was deceptively mundane, appearing as nothing more than a Midgardian accessory worn over the eyes. The only signs it was more than that was a strange soft-edged prong that sat behind one of the ear hooks and the electronic light on one of the arms. The light responded to touch, Loki noticed, but he failed to find anything nefarious about the things in themselves; their primary function appeared to be indicating whether the device was on or off.

“The override off switch is back there too, by the way. Or it stops if, you know, you just take the glasses off,” Stark explained, holding out a hand for the glasses once Loki had finished examining them.

Tony had presented the demonstration as a game; he would wear the device and it would be Loki’s objective to try everything within his power to pry out any memories or information that he would otherwise would not be willing to give.

“Alright, it’s on. Do your worst, Loki.”

Loki opted for a verbal attack, beginning by testing the waters with more basic prompts and seeing what memories, if any, they conjured.  

“Alfheim," Loki said. And then more specifically, “The birds attacking." The room remained unchanged, no memories appearing to light. It appeared that cues of a location and event had done nothing. Loki tried again, probing deeper into something he knew Stark would be far more reluctant for him to see. "The moment your fellow Avengers turned on you," Loki said. Stark gave him a certain dubious look that caused Loki to shrug. "I must admit, I am curious how that came about."

"Yeah, you don’t get to see that one. None of your business. What else you got?"

"Very well,” Loki responded. Then he tried a more abstract suggestion. “Think of the thing you absolutely do not want me to know, the secret that you hold most dear..." Loki said. Tony smirked when nothing happened. "Something you haven't told a single another living soul, the thing you mustn't think of under absolutely any circumstances, the thing it is imperative that no one else discovers."

This time, Rhodey spoke up. "Are you done yet?"

Loki shook his head irately.

"Do you recall how we met the second time?” Loki asked Stark. “You resurfaced consciousness upon Jotunheim and wasted no time demanding that I send you back to meet your death just so that you could die in the name of defending your realm and with your team. You repaid me saving your life by throwing me off a mountaintop. But before I made impact with the ground you reached for me and prevented it even though you must have suspected I would have survived without aid."

"I'm nice like that," Tony said, "although maybe I'm beginning to regret catching you."

But words alone still hadn't been enough to trigger the memory being brought to life. Loki held out his hands and the scene played out over his palms like a pantomime act of Tony pushing Loki, Loki falling and being caught, his theory being that perhaps a visual cue might be able to trigger a memory.

"And what was the first thing you said to me afterwards?"

"Probably something about being even," Stark replied.

Loki tried spreading the illusion to the scale of the room, telling the story of the memory in increasingly more and more vivid forms, even trying to see if there was a difference depending on how distracted Tony was, but there were no changes. Loki had been thorough, very thorough, until eventually he was as satisfied as was capable of that words alone would not be able to wrench memories from his mind and bring them out into the open.  The only thing Loki hadn’t checked was that the device would not delve into his mind as it pleased once he had given his permission for it to read one memory.

“I wish to see what happens once the device has projected one of your memories,” Loki announced.

"Alright then," Tony said amiably, "since you like being the star of the show so much..." He pressed another button on the rim of the glasses and Loki waited.

Loki had expected the entirety of room to change to fit the memory but instead it was the exterior view of the city that did, the sky filling with flying Chitaurian ships and the streets below in chaos. The scene was familiar and yet unfamiliar at the same time. Loki knew it well – he had, after all, been standing on the other side of the penthouse at the time – but this memory was from Tony’s perspective. The room looked slightly larger through Tony’s eyes, the details less crisp, and his eyes had a tendency to wander until they finally settled on something behind Loki. That something was Loki – a different Loki. Had he really looked like that? His face was gaunt and hollow, all sharp lines and pale skin stretched tightly over bone, his eyes ladened by shadows. The smile was predatory, mocking, and when he walked it was more like he was stalking forwards rather than stepping. He carried the sceptre in one hand and moved his body with a distinct almost feline quality.

“Please tell me you’re going to appeal to my humanity,” the Loki of Tony’s memory said.

“Uh – actually I’m planning to threaten you.”

“Bold move, past me,” Tony said, his voice unexpectedly close, making Loki jump.

"A strategically questionable move," Loki corrected.

"My suit was shot," Tony admitted with a shrug. "Thought I might as well put up an air of bravado."

"As I recall, it came close to costing you your life."

"Shh. I like this part." Tony grinned, watching himself offer the alien version of Loki a drink.

The sight of himself had been so jarring that Loki had almost forgotten the purpose of visiting the memory.

“Tony,” Rhodey spoke from behind them, “why I am equally horrified yet not at all surprised?”

“Probably because you know me,” Tony replied.

Loki decided he had wasted enough time. Watching himself had become something alarmingly akin to morbid fascination. Loki tried testing the device again – he refused to call it BARF – using both verbal and visual cues in the context of a living memory this time. He prompted Stark to recall memories he did not wish to share, tested creating his own illusions within the illusion of Tony's memory, and even tried implanting slight alterations to the memory by subtle suggestion, but the technology granted him nothing more than what Stark permitted.

"Here we go," Tony said, "the exact moment your plan went to shit."

"I would argue that my confrontation with the one you call the Hulk was."

“Well, if we’re trying to pinpoint an exact moment, I’d say it was when you decided to invade Earth in the first place. Your plan was shitty. Who starts with the capital?”

Loki licked his lips, his mouth having gone slightly dry. “Someone who wishes for a fast result.”

“You got that alright.”

Loki watched himself seize Stark by the throat. He had come so close to ending his life. If he had decided to break the neck instead of throwing the man through the glass to fall to his doom then things would be… Things would be very different.

The smashing of the glass was loud, even in Tony’s memory and the ground was rushing up to meet him, colours flying past and the speed of the air causing his vision to blur.

“Jesus, Tony,” Rhodey said when Stark narrowly avoided colliding with the pavement, “what percentage of the reasons you’re alive just comes down to flukes?”

“Anyone ever told you that life happening has just been a long series of flukes?”

“Pretty sure you did that one time you turned into a philosophical drunk.”

“Doesn’t sound like me. I don’t remember that.”

“You wouldn’t,” Rhodey replied dryly.

“Anyway – I’m gonna have to cut this memory short before it starts getting into unpleasant nuke territory.” Tony pressed the button at the side of the glasses and the illusion of the memory vanished.

It had been odd to witness a form of illusion that wasn’t caused by his own hand, Loki realised, although it did not touch the level of surrealness that seeing his previous self from another person’s eyes had.

“So,” Tony said, “what do you think?”

Loki blinked at him. “What do I think?”

“Yeah. Of that nice little BARF demonstration I just gave you.”

“I would say that it makes me question why you would design such a thing.”

“Oh. The answer’s actually for the greater good and all that. It’s supposed to be a therapy-healing thing, not a dystopian government thing. At least it might be a therapy thing when I can 100% guarantee there’s no way the tech could ever be misused if it got into the wrong hands. That’s why there are so many fail-safes, with the thought consent and the manual off switch and it measures anxiety levels to make sure no one’s being forced into it and–”

“Therapy-healing?” Loki repeated.

“Yeah. This is just the version that reads memories.” Tony grinned. “In the later versions you get to mod them. And I don’t mean you rewrite them, I mean you get to decide what happens and remember _both_ versions.”

Loki was stunned. “And that helps?”

“A bit.” Tony scratched that hair around his jaw. “So what do you think? BARF or no BARF?”

Loki had been unable to provide substantial evidence that the technology could be used nefariously but he still far from willing. He had other options. He could have fought them. He could have torn past Tony and held a blade to the other human’s throat and demand to know the whereabouts of his brother but something held him back. Maybe it was because he wouldn’t have liked the answer if he knew, maybe it was something to do with being reluctant to be on the receiving end of Tony’s repulsors, or maybe it was that Loki needed to see the memory in case his mind had been tampered with any further than he was already aware of.

That would be the price of knowing whether or not his brother was still alive. It was a heavy price to pay and it came to Loki as a shock to realise that in some respects, he might have been better off believing Thor to be dead. At least when he believed Thor to be dead, he wouldn’t have bothered taking the risk.

***

Loki fought the urge to tear the device from his head, the feel of the arm of the glasses behind his ears prickling his hair like some sort of spider. He concentrated on the sound of his breathing, trying but failing to maintain a controlled even rhythm despite the rising dread in the pit of his stomach.

Loki forced another reminder that no memory could be assessed without his permission. Tony’s only interest was seeing whether Thanos’s attack upon Midgard was a lie; he had no reason to delve any deeper, and besides, if he was that interested, he had enough of a lack of tact to be forward in asking about it. No. The only thing that could possibly cause this to fail was Loki’s own mind. What if he accidentally let another memory slip? What if Stark and his friend got a glimpse of the void and what happened after? What if the technology failed to turn itself off? What if it worked differently because Loki was a god and Tony was only a mortal?

_Mental discipline,_ Loki reminded himself. He had taken pride in his ability to discipline his mind at one time.

He'd done everything in his power to check that nothing besides permission could conjure the memories. Stalling wouldn’t help him.

“Alright, turn it on when you’re ready,” Tony said.

Loki hesitated. Then his fingers reached upwards and he tapped the appropriate button. He’d expected to feel something in his mind, some sort of obtrusive force, but he felt nothing. No threads of magic, no invasion, no physical sensation. The device was designed alarmingly well if even he could not feel its invisible claws reaching into his mind.

Loki waited, hiding his fingers in his fists.

“Uh – you’ll need to give it proper permission before anything will happen,” Tony said.

Loki nodded, his jaw tense, ignoring Rhodey’s stare. If it had been up to Loki, the stranger would have been too far away to witness this.

_The day of Thanos’s attack on Midgard,_ Loki thought. His stomach churned with nervousness. Why wasn’t anything happening? Loki had to know, he needed to know, if someone had addled with his mind or if Thor–

_Ah,_ he realised, _I give my permission to access–_

There was a bright blue flash, the flash of the Tesseract in his memory, and suddenly instead of being inside Stark’s tower, they were looking at a view of the city. The flash faded into the confusion of the battle, the Chitauri and the humans fighting so compactly it was difficult to distinguish one from the other. The viewpoint was jarring; Loki’s eyes had been darting across the scene both to avoid conflict and to seek out Stark before Thanos would be the end of him.

Loki watched himself pick his way around debris and bodies and weave around the Chitauri soldiers. In his memory, the Chitauri were creatures barely worthy of notice; their advantage in battle was in numbers rather than skill and engaging with them would have only slowed him down. He was moving faster now, anything red or gold catching his attention in the race against time to find Stark. Loki grew closer to the centre of the battle and only then did he locate Stark, lying broken on the ground. And along with Stark was Thanos.

Loki – the real Loki, not just the memory Loki – blanched.

"Alright," somebody said in the background, "definitive proof."

Loki waited for the memory to fade but he was trapped in horror as he watched Thanos, the gems glinting off his golden gauntlet. Any minute now, Thor would be making his appearance.

"Loki." someone said, their voice sounding far away, from another world. "It's okay – we believe you. You can stop it now, you don't have to watch this again."

But Loki did, his stomach twisting further and further into knots as he anticipated his brother’s arrival until–

The memory was gone.

“The fail-safe,” someone murmured. A hand settled around Loki's shoulders to steer him forward. The touch had not been obtrusive. It wasn't until Loki was sitting on the settee again that he realised whose hand it had been.

Loki ignored Tony next to him, his stare directed at Rhodey.

"Thor?" Loki rasped.

Rhodey's eyes were far too sympathetic for Loki's liking.

"Sorry," Rhodey said. "You know why we had to check, right?"

"We had a bargain." Loki reminded him, the beginnings of anger seeping into his voice. "Tell me."

Rhodey lowered his eyes. "Alright. As far as I know, Thor’s still alive. Last I heard, he’d just headed back to Asgard after staying with Jane."

And just like that, Loki’s stomach dropped.

Asgard. Thor was home. Wasn’t he?

But what about Thanos? Where had he gone? Was Asgard his next destination. Why–

"Hey," Tony said, nudging his shoulder, "hey, look at me. We’re gonna figure this out."

The Norns would have to be cruel, even by their own standards, to put such hope in Loki’s path, like tempting a dog with the smell of meat only to snatch it away.

"Rhod?" Tony was still speaking. "Can you..."

"Uh... Sure."

Loki barely registered the sound of the door shutting as the man left.

"Why?" Loki’s voice cracked. "Why do _you_ get your loved ones back?" The omitted _but not me_ was implicit.

“If everyone’s still alive there’s no way Thor isn’t too. We’ve just– We’ve just to figure out what the hell is going on since apparently the invasion we both remember never actually happened.” Tony looked thoughtful, light suddenly appearing in his eyes. “Or hasn’t happened _yet_. I mean, this whole thing screams gem fuckery to me, doesn’t it to you?. You know what? I’m a moron. I can’t believe I didn’t think of this earlier.” Tony rose to his feet. “Friday – consider yourself unmuted. Done syncing with the suit yet?”

“100% synchronised, boss.”

“Good,” Tony said. “Anything you think you should be telling me?”

“Well, boss, I had been about to correct your misconception about a battle you appeared to be under the impression had taken place before you muted me.”

Tony sighed. “Now’s really not the time to sulk, Friday. Anything else?”

“I’m not sure what you mean, boss.”

“The date, Friday, give me the date.”

The answer Friday gave meant little to Loki, as unaccustomed to the Midgardian calendar as he was, but Tony’s reaction told him more than Friday could.

“Huh,” Tony said, sitting back down. “So that’s that theory out the window.”

“What?”

“The date is...exactly what it should be. Which is weird. I thought we might have…”

“I doubt it would have escaped our attention if you had enough of a grasp of the Time Gem to send us backwards in time.”

“I’m still not ruling out magic gem fuckery.”

“As you probably shouldn’t,” Loki said. His voice sounded distant, even to him, his mind occupied by the ramifications a brief visit to Asgard might introduce.

“So – theory number two: future us actually succeed. Future us manage to travel back in time and stop Thanos attacking Earth and that’s why in the present, Thanos never happened. Maybe this is the reality where Thanos is already dead. Maybe it’s because we – future us in the past, I mean – won. Or will win, anyway. Am I supposed to call the versions of us who already stopped it ‘past us’ because we're in the past or ‘future us’ because it's still ahead in our timeline? Someone really needs to establish proper time travel jargon or else this'll get confusing as hell."

Loki was uncertain. “You’re saying we might already be seeing the results of us using the Time Gem?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. And you know what? That’d actually make sense. Ever heard the multiverse theory? Or about parallel universes? Daughter universes?”

“It’s also possible that our minds may have been tampered with,” Loki said.

“But what for though? Alright, for the sake of thinking out every possibility, let’s say someone’s fucked with our heads. Let’s say this entire thing right now isn’t real. Whoever they are, they want us to believe Thanos is no longer a threat. But what for? Probably so we don’t bother going ahead and doing what we would’ve done anyway. So obviously the best course of action is to go ahead do what we were gonna try to do anyway.”

“Unless,” Loki added, “the memory of Thanos was a false memory. In which case, it would not be unreasonable to conclude that this theoretical person would want to manipulate us into having to resort to learning to travel through time.”

“So assuming someone’s messed with our heads, the only thing we can conclude is that they might or might not want us to travel back in time. Great. Don’t you love it when you can make a solid conclusion?”

“I don’t suppose your technology–”

“BARF can’t distinguish between false memories and real ones. Hell, even human brains can’t do that by themselves.”

“I may,” Loki admitted resignedly, “need more information about the theories of the universe you just mentioned.”

“Then count me as your dealer,” Tony said. “But first I’ve got a date with the shower. And I’m ordering cheeseburgers since there don’t seem to be any imminent threats lurking around right now. Stick a movie or something on for him, would you Friday? Guest rights and all that.”

Whatever story began playing on a screen once Tony had left did little to capture Loki’s attention. He was too busy trying to make sense of it all, trying to invent a solution that made the pieces fit.

When clouds began to roll together unnaturally quickly, Loki passed it off as wishful thinking. When a figure with a red cape flying towards the window emerged, Loki passed it off as an outright delusion. It was only once Thor had crashed his way through the window and hit him square in the chest, knocking him to the floor, that Loki believed in his solidarity.

Loki accepted the collision with open arms. Pain had never been sweeter.

His brother crouched above him, one hand clutching Mjolnir and the other grasping Loki by the neck.

"Loki!" Thor roared, thunder crackling outside. "Loki, how could you?"

"Actually," Loki said breathlessly, "I didn't."

Thor was not gentle placing Mjolnir on Loki’s chest, pinning him to the floor.

"I grieved for you, I shed tears for you, I..." Thor's face tightened. "I did not think to find you here. I did not think that the Norns would force me to face this a second time," Thor said. _Oh, you think the Norns are cruel in their irony towards_ **_you_** _,_ Loki thought. "I thought you were _dead_ , Loki. I held you as you died! Only to find you here using this realm as a base for your schemes with the Tesseract again." Thor shook him and Loki's head bruised against the floor. "I thought you were done with this farce! I thought it was put to an end when you lost your way here the first time."

And then, because Loki's own mouth had the unfortunate habit of often betraying him, he found himself replying, "Different time, different scheme, brother."

Loki expected a physical blow but it did not come. Instead, the static in the air grew weaker and– Where Thor's eyes wet? Loki stared at the liquid with fascination.

"Loki," Thor said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet, "must you always conflict me like this? You are undoubtedly up to no good and yet I would much rather have this than the alternative of not having you at all."

Loki blinked as if dazed.

"Why?" Thor said. "Why must you put me through this again? I barely coped the first time I thought you dead and now…"

"I..." Loki's mouth had gone dry and he suddenly lacked the ability to transform his thoughts into words. "It is not what you assume."

"Not what I assume? And what else am I to assume, brother? I return home to find the throne room empty, Father missing, and then I discover that you are here with your precious Tesseract. Have you learned _nothing?"_

"I do not mean to rule them this time.”

"I wish I could believe you."

_You can._

"You can," a voice said.  Loki startled at the voice, twisting his head to seek out the source. It was Tony. "And you owe me a new window. If taking the door is too hard for you, couldn’t you have taken the window that already got smashed today? Is breaking that particular window a family trait or something?"

When Thor advanced towards Tony, Tony pointed at his own eyes. "Thor, look at the evidence – my eyes aren’t all glow-stick-of-destiny-blue. I'm still me. I’m fine."

Thor stilled. "Loki is in your tower," Thor spoke slowly, as if explaining something to a child.

Tony gave a bright grin. "Yeah, I know. I invited him."

Thor's frown deepened. "Why? Why would you–"

"He's not over for a movie night. We're..." Tony met Loki's gaze. "We're working on a project."

Thor was horrified. Beyond horrified.

"Stark, my brother is a skilled liesmith and has fooled the best of us time and time again. Whatever this project is that he claims to be assisting you with, I assure you, it is not what it seems."

"You're right on one part," Tony agreed. "It's really _not_ what it seems."

"Stark, heed my words. Do not let Loki toy with you. Nothing good can come out of encouraging him regarding his use of the Tesseract."

It was at that point that Loki felt the need to let his voice be heard once more.

"As it happens, Tony is under no deceptions on my part."

The over-familiarity of Loki using the first name granted him an odd look from Thor before Thor continued speaking.

"Stark – please. Let me help you before something terrible comes out of this. I have sworn to protect this realm to the best of my ability and I intend to honour–"

"The protection's already being taken care of," Tony said dismissively.

Thor clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles were white.

"Is that so? I have not forgotten the 'protection' you enlisted the last time we assembled."

Tony’s cheek twitched. "Yeah, funnily enough,  neither have I."

"Thor," Loki pacified, voice weakened from the weight of Mjolnir on his chest, "you must listen." Listening had never been his brother's strong suit. It was as if his blood beat so hard and rang in his skull so loudly, it made it impossible for him to stop and think. Thor was quick to temper and his default response was always to punch his way through his problems and so it was for that reason that Loki was surprised when Thor slowly turned to face him and spoke with such coldness it made the hair on the back of Loki's neck stand on end.

"I told you if you betrayed me I would kill you."

"Thor,” Loki said quietly, “I know you did. But I did not betray you."

"You had me think you were dead!" Thor roared.  _I **did** die,_ Loki thought. _I died for you._  "And as if that isn't damning enough, you pretended to be Father for only the Norns know how long and had me believe you were him! I even discussed finding your body with you, thinking you were him." Thor was disgusted and Loki could not deny the accusation.

"I know," Loki murmured.

"No clever lies for me, brother?"

_Only a truth._

"I do not deny that I did these things but I deny that I betrayed you."

Thunder sounded again, louder this time.

"I will give you one chance, brother. You already have the Tesseract. Transport us home and willingly submit yourself to Asgardian justice and I will–“

"Asgardian _justice?"_  Loki scoffed.

"Uh – no,“ Tony interjected.  “Thor – whatever you’re planning – I need him."

"Make no mistake, Stark," Thor growled, "I will fight through you if I must."

"Thor," Loki said, marvelling at how quickly his relief of seeing his brother had turned to exasperation, "there is no need. I have done this realm no more wrong. Have you not spoken to Heimdall?"

Thor paused. "Of course I spoke to Heimdall when I was finally able to release him. I came as soon as he informed me that you were still alive and of which realm you stood upon."

Loki indulged himself in a long eye-roll. Of course his brother had not stopped to ask any further questions and of course Heimdall did not bare Loki enough loyalty to have made a claim of innocence on his behalf.

"Had you not been so hasty, Heimdall might have informed you of the conversations we had in the dungeons."

Thor hesitated. "What conversations?"

"The ones in which I was single-handedly preparing Asgard for the war against the fiercest foe it will ever meet."

"Do you truly expect me to believe that you usurped the throne purely for the good of Asgard?"

Loki held a fist to his chest in a mockery of the royal salute. "I was doing my duty to my kingdom." He dropped the facade and flashed a grin. "But you are correct, I did not seize the throne for purely altruistic purposes."

"Tell me what you did to Father. Heimdall cannot find him."

"Well..." Loki pretended to think. "He's not dead."

Loki considered teleporting away at that moment but he knew little of the complications Mjolnir would introduce if he attempted to.

Thor reached for Loki's throat and sparks of lightning ran across his fingers.

"Are you intending to be true to your word?" Loki did not need to specify that he was referring to Thor's threat to kill him.

Thor's hand fell.

"Oh, I might intend to be," Thor said and he sounded so sad that it seemed out of place coming from his mouth, "but I doubt I could have it in me to kill you, Loki." Thor's eyes were very blue when they looked at him. "You are my little brother. You are my family."

Loki was frozen in place.

"Right!" Tony clapped his hands. "I'm glad that's settled. No one's killing anyone, not here, not today. Three cheers for family reunions."

" _Settled?"_   Thor echoed. "This matter is hardly settled. He may be my brother but he is still a great threat to your realm."

"Not right now he isn't," Tony replied. "You," Tony pointed at Thor, "sit." He pointed at the sofa. "And you," it was Loki at the receiving end of his finger this time, "don't antagonise him. This is hard enough without you making it worse."

Tony took his seat next to Thor. "Drinks anyone?" He was met by silence. "Another time then. Are you gonna release him anytime soon, Thor? It’s kind of hard to have a nice chat while one of us is stuck to the floor by a giant hammer. No? Alright, here's the thing: Loki isn't up to anything. He isn't trying to take over the planet or get himself another crown or raise another army."

"Loki is the greatest liar I have ever met."

"Quit interrupting. I'm not done. I'm also not a fucking moron. I have definitive proof he's been telling me the truth."

Thor furrowed his eyebrows. "You do?" His voice was weak but his eyes were alight with something Loki was hesitant to identify. Could it have been hope? "How?"

Tony clapped Thor on the shoulder. "Science," he said by way of explanation.

Thor was examining Loki is such a manner that made him feel like squirming. That thing in Thor eyes – definitely hope, Loki concluded – had grown and it gave Thor a child-like vulnerability.  Loki couldn't stand it. Why after all of this time and everything he had done would Thor still have so much as a grain of hope for him? Was there anything Thor’s stubbornness allowed him to give up on?

"I made a piece of tech that scans the Amygdala–" at Thor's blank stare Tony adapted his explanation. "It’s tech that lets you replay bits of your memory."

"And Loki allowed you to do that?"

"Reluctantly," Tony confirmed.

"I was not particularly fond of the other options I found myself presented with," Loki said stiffly.

Thor turned to Tony. "Are you absolutely certain?"

"All evidence points to your brother cooperating with me in order to..." Tony glanced at Loki to read his expression, "...finish our project. After we’re done," Tony shrugged, "I can't vouch for his intentions."

"This project..." Thor began. "What does it involve?"

"A mutual enemy," Tony said before Loki could think of a plausible enough lie or half-truth. "Enemy of my enemy is my friend and all that."

"It must be a powerful enemy," Thor said.

Loki cursed Stark silently. Of course, there was a risk that Thor would want to join them now that he had gotten the idea into his head that there would be some sort of upcoming battle or fight. But the Norns had said it was only Stark that Loki should have allied himself with, not Thor. And besides, how could Thor possibly stand with them against Thanos with no gem of his own? The risks were too high.  Loki had no desire to watch Thor die again.

"He's not the type of enemy you are imagining, brother," Loki said. "This fight will be fought with ingenuity and intelligence rather than fists and swords."

"Even so," Thor said, "I could help. Even though both your minds are sharper than my own, I could still defend you if need be. And any being capable of thinking is capable of being hurt, I could–"

_Thor, you stubborn oaf. Why are you so determined to get yourself killed?_

"Brother," Loki reprimanded him from his undignified position on the floor. "you are adopting your much-preferred brawn tactic again. I assure you it will not work. Not against him."

“Where is the Captain? Black Widow? The Hawk?” Thor directed the question at Tony. “Surely, they would be of much use.”

Tony ran a hand through his hair. “I… I don’t know where they are right now. Long story. You weren’t there.”

"Then tell me how I can help."

"By letting us continue making our plans without further interruption," Loki said.

“It is my sworn duty to protect the realms that need it."

Loki gave a theatrically loud sigh that was a mistake with Mjolnir still on him. "This realm is not at currently at threat." Technically it was true, supposing that they had already somehow managed to prevent Thanos from wreaking havoc upon it. "And besides," Loki added, "you must learn not to prioritise a single realm above the others. I am sure that as the king of the Nine Realms, you must have other more pressing duties for you to attend to than one escaped prisoner. Especially after the most unfortunate absence of the royal family will have thrown Asgardian politics into chaos."

"I do not like this one bit," Thor said.

"You don't have to."

"Stark," Thor said, turning away from Loki, "if this somehow gets out of hand or out of control, know that I will help in whatever way I can."

Loki lifted his head up. "Is this a concession to leave us to get on with it?"

“No. I need to know more. I… It appears I may have acted rather hastily. I will speak with Heimdall and I shall have him watching," Thor informed Loki, as if Loki wasn't already aware. "If he has the slightest reason to suspect that something is amiss with you..."

"Why brother, it's almost as if you don't trust me."

Thor's sternness melted. "It's myself I don't trust. I want to believe this so badly I fear it blinds me."

"If I blinded you how could I fool you with my illusions in the future?"

Thor's smile was fond and Loki found himself thinking that it had been far too long since he had seen that expression.

"May I at least know the identity of the enemy that managed to unite you?"

"A feeble attempt to wheedle your way into our fight, Thor, even by your standards," Loki said and Thor’s smile turned sheepish. “But rally the rest of our armies, have all the defences in place that you can. Have Heimdall watch for signs of an impending attack and a fleet of Chitauri. And, Thor,” Loki said, “if the enemy comes do not face him. It is a fight you cannot hope to win.” Loki had spoken similar words to Thor before but even Thor believing the command had come from the Allfather had changed nothing. “If Thanos comes, you find me.”

Thor gave a nod. “Your words trouble me.”

“Finally,” Loki said, “you have gained some sense.”

“If this threat is real, that is more troubling than you having managed to escape your cell,” Thor said. “The justice you will have to face may have to wait. But Loki – if this threat is real, don’t you see that Asgard is all the weaker without Father? He–“

“He is the only thing that guarantees my freedom,” Loki said. “If you or any other Asgardian attempts to imprison me, I will never reveal where he is.”

Thor closed his eyes in resignation. “I believe you,” Thor said. “I will return after speaking with Heimdall. I trust that Tony will not allow you to do any harm here. I would stay if not for Asgard needing a ruler. The very fact that this enemy is serious enough to merit both the Tesseract and you choosing to ally yourself with a mortal–"

"–hey–" Tony interjected. 

"–concerns me. But I am familiar with that look on your face, Loki, and I know your stubbornness will not allow you to let me help you even when you desperately need it." Thor rose to his feet. “I am sorry, Tony, for the damage I have done. I will make reparations when I can.”

One of Thor’s hands opened to summon Mjolnir and the weight flew off Loki’s chest. Loki brought himself to his feet.

"And one more thing," Thor added, "regarding your 'death’." His voice was colder now and filled with a darkness Loki was not accustomed to hearing.

Thor laid a land on the back of Loki's neck in a gesture Loki was not sure was supposed to be threatening or familial. "Never do that to me again."

_What_ – _die? Only if you promise not to do the same._


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if there are mistakes. It happened again except this time I've only just finished this chapter at two in the morning. I'm giving a heads up that I'm planning to update this once every two weeks instead of once a week for a little while at least. I think I started burning myself out with the pace and volume of words that each chapter required because writing suddenly started getting very very hard even when I knew exactly what was supposed be happening in each chapter. I'd love to be able to mass produce chapters but sadly I don't have that ability and I don't want the quality of the story to suffer so that's why I'm having to slow down the pace a bit until I've caught up a bit more.

Once Thor had left, Loki took a seat rather unsteadily.

“Cheeseburger?” Tony asked. Loki did not respond. “Well, I’m having one.” Tony picked up something from a greasy looking paper bag and bit into it. “Mmm… Look at that – meat you don’t have to hunt down yourself. The luxuries of Earth. Sure you don’t want one?” Tony rattled one of the bags. Loki shook his head; he was not feeling particularly hungry. “Suit yourself.” Tony took another hearty bite. “Any other surprise guests we should be worried about?”

“Not–” Loki broke off. “Not that I am aware of.”

“Awesome. It might actually be worth fixing the windows then.”

Loki stared at him incredulously. “ _That’s_ what’s on your mind? Your _windows?"_

“Hey – I’m capable of having more than one thought at once. And they’re letting in a draft, it’s pretty distracting. So I’ve got that, still trying to figure out what’s actually going on, and trying to figure out why I get the feeling Thor was doing bunny ears around the word ‘death’ on my mind.”

“Bunny ears?”

“You know, quote marks.”

“Ah,” Loki said in his best offhand voice, “my brother is under the impression that I faked my death.”

“Shit like this really shouldn’t surprise me anymore. So did you?”

“Must you have to ask?”

“It’s funny, the fact that you never denied faking it kind of makes me think you’d prefer Thor to believe you did.”

That was…astute. Unsettlingly so.

“I believe that is a tale for another time, perhaps.”

Tony’s lips twitched. “You never did get that drink I offered you.”

“As tempting as the offer of alcohol may be after an encounter with my brother–”

“–Oh please, Thor barging into you like that was practically your equivalent of hugging–”

“–I believe we have more pressing matters to attend to.”

“Yeah, you might have a point there.” Tony wiped his greasy hands on a napkin. “ _Something_ has obviously happened. It’s just a case of figuring out what. Or why. We can’t eliminate some form of memory altering or mind control for good. And I don’t even know how I’d go about proving we’re in an alternate universe…” Tony had been mid-way through screwing up the bag into a crumbled ball when he came to a sudden pause. “Unless we’re _not_ in some alternate universe.” He looked to Loki for his reaction. “The Reality Stone still hasn’t shown up – do you think that could explain anything?”

“It isn’t impossible, though I doubt that we have an unknown ally who conveniently vanquished Thanos so we wouldn’t have to.”

In fact, some part of Loki hoped that wasn’t the case. If somebody else had defeated Thanos then it would mean his deal with Hela would have been broken and he’d never see Frigga again. Loki did not wish to dwell on the possibility of gaining his brother back only to lose any chances of walking the halls of Valhalla with his mother again. “It would not explain why we still remember the invasion even though nobody else does or why the Norns did not mention another potential ally.”

“But how much stock can you put in what the Norns tell you anyway?” Tony asked, then caught the look Loki gave him. “Alright, I heard your explanation the last time you answered that – what I mean is how much information do you think they’re keeping from you?”

“I do not doubt that they are and have been keeping information from me.”

“That’s not reassuring.” Tony threw the paper ball in the direction of a bin. It missed.

“No,” Loki agreed. “It isn’t.”

“But they’re basically the ghosts of Christmas past, present, and future, except they can see every possibility on top of that, right?”

Loki was able to infer the general meaning, if not the reference.

“That is correct,” Loki replied, uncertain of what point Tony was trying to make.

“So if we’re in an alternate universe, wouldn’t the Norns would be the likeliest to know? Or they’d know if we were mind controlled or if someone used the Reality Stone hit the delete key on Thanos or something.”

Loki hesitated. “I am uncertain of the answer to your first question. The rest, however, they would know.”

In the periphery of Loki’s vision, a small machine entered his field of view, rolling in on four wheels and fumbling with its long protruding arm at the bag lying by the side of the bin. It managed to seize it within its vice-like extended hand, but then instead of placing the bag in its intended destination it placed it by the other side of the bin and wheeled itself back out of sight. Loki idly supposed that sort of thing was normal in Tony’s place of residence.

“Yeah, good job DUM-E,” Tony called after it. “But going back to the point I was going to make – I guess it’d depend on whether each universe has a different set of Norns or whether it’s just one set and they exist in all the universes and that’s how they know what every possibility is. Even if it’s a set of Norns for each universe – if we’ve actually switched universes – they must’ve become aware of each other’s existence if they weren’t before because they’d have seen it in our timelines, wouldn’t they?”

Loki gave it a moment’s thought. “I suppose so. But the issue with the Norns is that–”

“We just need to find them. They’re the ones with all the answers, they can afford to be a bit more generous.”

“As I was trying to say – the issue with the Norns is locating them. Finding the Time Gem was one thing but finding the Norns themselves is an entirely different matter. They do not _want_ to be found.”

“But it’s possible to find them?”

Loki folded his arms. “Supposing that they do not wish to be found and can see every possible outcome, it goes without saying that they can avoid anyone wishing to find them without much difficulty.”

“So it’s not possible then.”

Loki pulled a face. “Improbable would be more accurate. Although if they also wish for a Thanos-free universe, they may be aware that it would be within their best interests if we were to have a conversation.”

“Huh. We should probably add finding them to our to-do list then.”

“Ah,” Loki said wryly, “you mean the ever-expanding list of things that we or may not be forced into doing to rid ourselves of Thanos.”

Tony snapped his fingers. “That’s the one.”

“Wonderful,” Loki said dryly. “No one has succeeded in finding the Norns in countless millennia – how difficult could it possibly be for us?” His tone made his lack of conviction implicit.

“Well actually… I was thinking because all this Norn stuff is way more your area than mine and unless you looking for them is gonna be dangerous, we might be better off splitting the party.”

For a moment, Loki did nothing but stare.

“Two hardly constitutes a party,” Loki found himself saying.

“Figure of speech.” Tony waved a hand dismissively. “But there are two things that need doing. The first is figuring out what’s actually going on, which you can do by speaking to our elusive mystic all-seeing entity buddies. And the second is that I’m expecting to still have to figure out how to use this thing at some point.” He tapped the Time Gem hanging around his neck. “And I’m going to need my lab for that so I can’t really go with you and do that at the same time…”

“Yes.” The word had slipped past Loki’s lips without his consent. “That makes sense.”

“Awesome. Got any leads yet?”

Loki took a moment to think. “It’s possible that Heimdall may have seen where the Norns went after they visited me on Asgard… And speaking of Heimdall, a conversation about precisely what Heimdall might have seen during the battle would be useful, although I suppose I would have to get past Thor first in order to do that. I would prefer not to have the entirety of Asgard attempt to re-imprison me.”

“Fair enough. Let’s hope Thor has the manners to knock next time he visits. Whenever that might be. Seriously – that guy has no measure of time. I mean, his lifespan’s a hell of a lot longer than the rest of ours so I guess I get why but still."

“In this instance, I suspect Thor will return sooner rather than later.”

“Thor’s not really the type to understand the concept of socially acceptable visiting hours and how people generally just don’t turn up on each other’s doorsteps – or through windows – anymore. And speaking of courtesies – I never got around to showing you around…”

***

The tower was more vast than Loki had imagined. There were floors for production, floors for accounting, floors for marketing and advertising – and those were not including the floors that had been intended for living or personal use. Loki could only guess what the other floors labelled by the lift would contain.

He was not shown the areas he did not require access to, but he was shown around a communal living space, kitchen, and his own private quarters, including his own bathroom. There was so much space – not in comparison to the rooms he had to himself as a child, but in comparison to what Loki had become accustomed to as of late, which had been reduced to spaces as meagre as cells and tents.

Loki did not know how long he stood underneath the shower, letting the warm torrent of water wash over his skin and hair. It loosened the tension he had become too accustomed to lurking under the surface of his skin and he relished the feeling of finally feeling clean again.

When he could put off stepping out of the shower no longer, the tiles of the floor were deliciously warm underneath his feet. Loki hadn’t quite anticipated the luxury Stark Tower had to offer – even the towels were pre-heated, and in some ways the tower was more extravagant than the palace of Asgard, though on Asgard they had Asgardians serving them rather than computers and machinery.

The quarters he had been allocated were spacious, if a little sparse, but Loki found himself without complaints. Apparently, it had been one of the few rooms on the communal floor that was still at least partially furnished and there were indents in the carpet where other pieces of furniture had once been. A thought that he’d probably be sleeping in a room that had once belonged to one of the Avengers who had stood against him passed through his mind but Loki did not dwell on it for long.

He had a bed – a proper full-sized bed with a mattress and soft plump pillows. It was a small thing, Loki realised, but one he felt gratitude for nonetheless. It was a major improvement from the sleeping mat that failed to be long enough to fit his whole length on and was thin enough to feel the ground through.

Loki took what comfort he could but despite his exhaustion, sleep did not come easily. The night was too quiet and it allowed his thoughts to occupy the silence, circular speculations – about Thor, about Thanos, about the battle, about everything – but none that could lead to a discernible conclusion.

***

Loki was perched on a bar stool by the counter and had just been handed an item of food by the machine with the singular arm the following morning when Friday alerted them with an announcement that somebody was waiting to gain entrance.

Tony downed the contents of whatever foul-smelling drink was in his cup.

“Who is it, Friday?”

“It’s Thor, boss.”

“You mean he’s learned to do things the civilised way? Send him in, I want to see this.”

Loki’s shoulders stiffened and his fingers clutched at his plate.

When Thor entered the room, he did so with strangely pensive mannerisms that looked foreign on his body. Thor said nothing as he laid Mjolnir gently on a hook, his back turned to them.

“My– My friends…” Thor said, turning to face them. “I believe I owe you both an apology.”

Loki could hardly believe the words.

“Yeah,” Tony said, “and a new window.”

Thor bowed his head. “I will make amends however I can but I fear I have wronged you in ways worse than that.” His eyes met Loki’s. “Brother,” Thor said, his eyes shining in earnest. “I have spoken to Heimdall and he confirmed the truth of what you told me and more: that you acted to protect Asgard even though you did not act to protect its king, that you sought the Time Gem but not for yourself, and that you have been preparing to fight an enemy even he cannot see.”

“I see,” Loki said after a long moment had passed.

“I came to offer my support. If there is anything I can do to assist–”

“What you can _do_ , Thor, is everything within your power to prevent Asgard from trying to haul me back into my cell.”

Thor’s eyes widened and joy filled his features. “Does that mean you’re coming back?”

“No,” Loki said. “Not for good.” Loki watched Thor’s face fall. “I need to speak to Heimdall.”

Thor gave a solemn nod. Loki hadn’t been expecting him to agree so easily.

“Very well,” Thor said. “As the acting ruler of the Nine Realms, I shall give you my word none shall detain you while you are on Asgard.”

_Ever?_ Loki thought. Thor should have learned to be not so careless about his choice of words when making improvised vows.

“Good,” Loki said.

“How urgently do you need to speak to him? I could arrange–”

“As soon as possible, I should think.”

“Oh.” Thor scratched his arm. “The observatory is clear of all but Heimdall, if your need is as urgent as you say. We could return to Asgard now if you wish.”

“I see no reason to delay it,” Loki replied.

“Then come with me to the roof and–”

“No,” Loki said. “You go to the roof.” He brought out the Tesseract. “I, however, will be finding my own way.”

***

“My King,” Heimdall greeted Thor. Heimdall’s gaze fell to Loki. “Prince Loki.” Heimdall had not granted him that title in some time. It felt odd to hear, as if it belonged to somebody else.

“Heimdall,” Loki replied, traces of wariness in his voice.

“My brother seeks to speak to you,” Thor said.

“Your brother,” Loki said, “can speak for himself.”

Thor’s mouth was downtrodden as he gave a nod. “Then I shall take my leave.”

Heimdall and Loki were left staring at each other.

“What is it that you wish me to tell you?” Heimdall asked.

“Thor tells me you have seen no trace of Thanos.”

“Thor tells you the truth.”

“In that case, I wonder what it is you saw when Thanos attacked.”

Heimdall shifted his weight. “Even I, whose gaze stretches as far as the Nine Realms, do not see everything at once.”

“I hope you are not meaning to say that you merely did not happen to be looking in the right direction when Thanos attacked.” Loki considered his meaning. “Or didn’t attack,” he amended.

For the briefest instance of a second, Heimdall hesitated. “My gaze was drawn to something more enigmatic than you,” he said.

“Oh?”

Heimdall gave a singular nod. “The Norns.”

Loki looked up sharply. “You saw where they went?”

“I saw where they disappeared,” Heimdall corrected. “Although it may not be of much importance.”

Loki frowned. “Why that might that be?”

“My gaze followed them to the spot where they disappeared but I suspect they may have been able to disappear anywhere and anytime they wished to.”

“I might as well hear it.”

“They followed the river that runs off the edge of the world and then vanished.”

Loki began to pace. "And my mind?"

"Your mind?" Heimdall repeated.

"Have you seen anything? Is it... Is it my own?" Loki had not meant to sound so desperate.

Loki had never seen bafflement on Heimdall's face before.

"As far as I am aware," Heimdall replied.

Loki had reached the exit to the observatory when he turned around to ask one final question. “And the Aether?”

Heimdall grew more stern. “You still wish to know where it is?”

“Yes.”

Heimdall shook his head. “You would have me betray the Allfather while his body lies discarded wherever you saw fit to leave him?”

“I would,” Loki replied. “The king you serve now is Thor and Thor wishes for you to answer the questions I have to guarantee the safety of the Nine Realms.”

Heimdall remained level, staring at Loki unflinchingly. “In that case, I shall take up the matter with Thor and see what he makes of it.”

“But–”

“Thor,” Heimdall interrupted, “is not so quick to treason and the act of sharing information that Odin Allfather expressly sought to keep secret would be breaking his last command.”

Loki scowled. Heimdall could be as unchanging as stone and no amount of pretty sentences or endearing arguments would move him.

***

Loki opted to travel to the edge of the world by foot, disguising himself as nothing more than a nameless Asgardian citizen. The multi-coloured glinting light of the bridge whispered to him like a challenge, one he had come so close to teleporting to avoid. Perhaps it was a singular-minded stubbornness that triggered it, perhaps it was the idea that he could never expect to defeat Thanos if he could be so easily defeated by an inanimate object, or perhaps it had more to do with not wanting Heimdall to have watched him march out of the observatory in annoyance only to have to make a retreat. Whatever the reason, it made Loki resolve to conquer the Rainbow Bridge. It stretched on and on and he kept his gaze so determinedly fixed straight ahead that he almost didn't notice the cracks from where the Bifrost had been broken and he had been clinging on to Gungnir, legs dangling over the edge of the abyss. Loki's face was set, resolute. He continued as if it wasn't him who had decided to let go, it had been something that happened to a stranger, not himself. Then he was at the other side, something in his mouth tasting like victory that quickly soured as he failed to keep thoughts at bay of how pitiful it was to feel triumph in something so small, to best an object that could not fight back.

Loki's route took him around the edge of the golden city. He'd never seen so many workers in the weaponsmiths and he passed the Vanir and dwarven soldiers in the practice grounds. _So Thor had been listening,_ Loki thought. There were already far more soldiers than those Loki had managed to gather together during his reign as Odin. Loki wondered what it must be like to inspire the sort of loyalty and devotion that Thor did with no conscious effort, and for the first time, Loki did not envy him for it. To command armies was to command them to die for a cause and if Thanos came for Asgard – as Loki believed he would, whatever games had been played – then that cause would be futility. But the words ‘futility’ and ‘defeat’ did not exist in Thor's vocabulary because the Norns had been kinder to Thor; he had never been forced to learning them.

Loki walked through Frigga's gardens and was pleased to note that one of the schools of magic he had commissioned in her honour was almost built. Farther ahead, there was the library and what used to be Loki’s choice of mead hall when it was his turn to choose, and then the buildings began to scatter, becoming more and more sparce and replaced by open country.

Loki followed a valley formed by the hills until he found the wide river than ran through its centre. It was deserted enough that Loki saw no point in maintaining his illusion, opting to allow it to fall instead.

He didn't know what he expected to find once he followed the water to the edge of the world, but what he didn't expect to find was nothing. No traces of magic, no runes, nothing that could possibly be some sort of portal or gateway to another location. He watched river gush over the edge, sprays of water forming a mist as it fell. Why had the Norns chosen this place? Surely it had not just been a coincidence. Loki found it unlikely that they just happened to want to catch a glimpse of the view, as terrifying and awe-inspiring the gallons and gallons of water plunging into nothingness were.

The sound of something landing on grass shook Loki from his thoughts and he turned to seek out the source; it was Thor, dropping Mjolnir on the ground.

Loki folded his arms and waited.

“What are you doing here?” Loki asked once Thor had gotten close enough to clearly hear him.

Thor approached him cautiously, like he was some sort of wild animal that may attack at any moment.

“I meant it when I offered my help, Loki.”

“Unless you happen to know where and how to find the Norns or perhaps even where the Reality Stone has gotten to, your help is useless to me.”

Thor’s mouth turned mournful. “I had hoped that when you finally came home you would not push me away so.”

Loki let out a bitter laugh. “ _Home?"_

“You thought it your home until the moment you learned of your true heritage, I fail to see how–”

“There are many things you fail to see, Thor.”

Thor cast his eyes downwards, staring at the grass and allowing silence to fall between them before breaking it. “If you want use of your quarters, they are yours.”

“I don’t want them,” Loki said before he realised how much he meant it.

“Or if you require use of the libraries then you need only ask. Of course, it will be easier if–”

“Yes, I have the presence of mind to know to disguise myself.”

Thor opened his mouth and then shut it again, his expression resembling some sort of downtrodden wet pet as he turned his gaze to the falling water.

“Do you recall when I said that my hope for you no longer exists?” Thor asked after a long moment.  

“Goodbye, Thor.”

“I don’t believe that was entirely true. If it was, I would not have stopped to listen to your explanation as I did.”

Loki’s face darkened and he leant forward to observe the weight of each word sinking in. “I don’t _need_ your hope.”

“Well,” Thor said, laying a hand tentatively on Loki’s shoulder, “perhaps I am the idiotic oaf you have always said I am, but all your misdeeds are not enough to extinguish it.”

Loki twisted his body away from the hand. “You are partially correct – you _are_ a sentimental fool, blinded by your own desires for everything to be the same as it was before. And it will _never_ ,” Loki snarled between his teeth, “be the same.”

Thor’s smile contained too much sadness to be a smile. “I know that now.”

“Then why do insist on persisting?” Loki was yelling now, the words flying out of his mouth without his consent.

“Because I know you. You were at my side for over a thousand years and I know you, Loki. You could be cold and calculating when you wanted to be, even malicious if somebody gave you reason to be, but you were never outright cruel. I just… I don’t understand what happened. I came home and you had changed. And then after you let go– Why did you have to let go, Loki? Why did you choose to do that? I would have pulled you up, myself and Father would have pulled you up, we would have made sure you were  _safe_ but instead you made us watch you fall. After I mourned you, I discovered your intention to crown yourself king of Midgard regardless of how many you would harm in doing so. I thought you had succumbed to madness and I thought the man who was my brother was no more. And then there was Svartalfheim and just when I thought I might have been wrong you...” Thor fell back into silence, shaking his head. “It feels like every time I begin to understand you in the slightest, I have to mourn you and then you are reborn into someone slightly new for me to figure out only to have to lose all over again. Sometimes I don’t know whether it’s you that has changed or whether I am finally noticing the different sides of you. Sometimes, I just don’t understand you anymore.” Thor paused and his voice grew small. “I don’t understand what happened.”

Loki could have screamed at him then. He could have raged about how of course Thor would never be able to understand, how utterly incomprehensible his _own brother_ was to Thor, how Thor was blinded by all the blessings he had been granted. 

Instead, Loki just said, “You don’t have to.”

“Truly, Loki,” Thor said and there was nothing the Nine Realms more pleading than his eyes than in that moment, “you can speak freely to me. I am not the man I was, and I will do my best to listen as well as I can.”

“Have you changed that much, brother? You seem just as eager to throw yourself into battle against an enemy you know nothing of as you did when you led us into Jotunheim.”

Thor hesitated before he gave his answer. “I hope I have changed. I believe that counts for something.”

Loki nodded and reached for the Tesseract.

“Loki, wait–” Thor reached out to place a hand on the back of Loki’s neck. “I meant it. I mean it. And if I can assist you in your quest in any way…”

“A  _q_ _uest?"_ Loki shook Thor off him. “You think that I have set myself upon some righteous _quest_ to redeem myself? I assure you, I have done no such thing.” Loki watched Thor’s face carefully so he could see what stamping out Thor's idiotic notions of his redemption did to his expression. “I seek my enemy’s death for the sake of my own _vengeance_ , not as a pathetic attempt to gain glory or honour.”

“Well,” Thor said as Loki began reactivating the Tesseract, “at least that’s an improvement.”


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm aiming to update every other Friday but there might be times, like today, when it ends up at some other point during the weekend instead. Still not satisfied with this chapter but I guess it'll have to do for now.
> 
> On the bright side - this story has just passed over 100K words! I never thought I'd actually be able to write something this long and proving myself wrong has been a pretty great feeling.
> 
> As always, comments – short, long, somewhere in between, whichever – are a delight to read.

Loki returned to Stark Tower with armfuls of books and journals from Asgard's library discussing the topic of the Norns. He had little hope of discovering something as straightforward as a direct clue to where the Norns resided or how to contact them, but he supposed ruling out options and possibilities was more productive than doing nothing.

The shared living space was empty, and the route back to his quarters revealed that so was the kitchen and dining area. The air was silent.

Loki stiffened and his blades appeared in his hands.

“Friday?” Loki asked aloud before he fully realised what he was doing.

“How can I help?”

“Where is Tony?”

“Mr Stark is in his lab.”

_Oh._

The full weight of how ridiculous he was being hit him.

Loki had become too accustomed to having to remain constantly vigilant as of the past number of years and it meant that whenever something was out of eyesight he had a tendency to assume the worst.

He should have realised that Tony not being within his immediate line of sight did not indicate that they were both in danger. Midgard was Tony’s realm and it contained his home, his friends, his resources. It would be irrational to assume that Stark would remain in the same place indefinitely.  Loki had gotten too used to constantly being in Tony’s company – that was what had caused the jolt of panic when he suddenly realised he did not know where Tony was. If that had happened, if they’d gotten separated involuntarily on any other realm, the consequences could have dammed them both.

Adjusting to a realm where Loki was not required to act as the guide, to have to constantly be pointing out each threat and problem, where they were not in constant threat of something – that would take some time.

Tony, contrary to popular belief, was capable, for the most part, of taking care of himself for the few hours in which he had been left alone. Midgardians were indisputably more fragile than other races like the Aesir or dwarves, but that did not mean that Stark needed to be constantly watched over to ensure that nothing – including himself – caused him harm. Tony might have been considerably more fragile and breakable than Loki was, but he wasn’t helpless or as careless as he liked others to believe, and Midgard presented fewer threats than the other realms – not that Loki believed they could be truly safe. Loki didn’t trust that Thanos was gone for good but until they’d have to face him again, they were as safe as they were likely to get. Midgard was safer than Niflheim and Vanaheim and Alfheim and–

Loki did not wish to think of Jotunheim. It was easier that way; the anger had simmered to leave something behind that pulled his conscience in multiple and confusing directions. But Loki did not wish to dwell on why thoughts of that place stirred something alarmingly close to resembling guilt for too long.

Stark was fine and Loki’s somewhat hasty assumption that because it was quiet and there was no sign of him implied otherwise had been an error. Tony was presumably doing exactly what he said he was planning to do: attempting to scan the Time Gem. Loki saw no reason to join him; he had little to offer where Midgardian science was concerned and he had already previously made his attempts to mould Tony into being more receptible to magic, which Tony was not choosing to pursue. Which was fine. So long as it enabled Tony to wield the gem faster then Loki saw no logical reason to object, unless whatever Tony was doing to it caused the gem to behave dangerously – but even Tony was not likely to ignore warning signs from an object so volatile.

***

It seemed that even outside of Loki’s confinement in his cell, he was doomed to while away eternity reading; he had done it as the Allfather and it had not helped him and now he was forced into doing it again. Loki would have been far less opposed to the concept if he had some choice in the matter.

He lost count of the number of times he’d finish a paragraph only to forget its contents and he’d have to reread the words to give them meaning. The Midgardian parchment he'd found in one of the desk drawers and had intended to use to note down worthy lines of enquiry remained depressingly blank.

Loki marked the page he was at, selected the next book in the pile, and the process started again.

Evening had fallen when he was interrupted by a low whirring noise following by a sound he could not accurately describe as a knocking at his door. It was closer to scraping, and when he opened the door there was the machine, one long extended arm piercing through the end of a plastic bag. Something was inside of the bag, the weight of it stretching the plastic.

Loki stared at it uncertainly. He did not receive an explanation.

"What is it?" he asked when the machine waited expectantly.

The machine turned what Loki assumed to be its head and whirred louder.

"That," Friday said, "would be Indian."

"Indian?" Loki repeated.

"Your dinner, courtesy of Mr Stark."

The machine pivoted, the holes it had pierced in the bag stretching larger and threatening to tear. Loki extended a hand for the items, supposing that it would probably be wise to eat something – he had been so preoccupied that it made him forget his hunger. He wrapped his hand around the handles of the bag and the clamp at the end of the machine's arm opened wider to release it but a bit of the plastic was caught on a metal seam. In the end, Loki had to wrench the bag from its grasp. He found a pair of foil trays enclosed with indecipherable scribbles written on their lids and the strong smell of whatever food was contained inside.

Loki quietly shut the door behind him as he retreated back into his quarters. The message he’d received was clear: for all of Tony’s words about how it was common courtesy to give him a tour of the tower, he would receive no more courtesies than that. Even guests of the lowest standing on Asgard were not forced to dine in solitude. Loki did not know why he was the slightest bit surprised of his own treatment; he had invaded the same very planet, flung Tony from the top of this very floor, and had opened a portal for the Chitauri in the sky directly above the tower. Tony had hardly invited him to stay for the pleasure of his company – Loki was there to maximise their chances of defeating Thanos and nothing more. Tony’s brusque manners aside, Loki was well adapted to solitude. He had, for some unidentifiable reason, assumed that Tony would have wanted to converse directly to glean insights rather than interrupting his research with a couple of brief questions from Friday about what he had learned from Asgard as he had done earlier during the day.

Whatever the reason, the demeaning treatment caused Loki to bristle as he ate the meal inside of his room, the unanticipated spice making his throat burn and giving him no choice but to venture out in search of water. He'd forgotten how Midgard had flavours to the extreme, never settling for subtlety. Asgard had no such spice as chillies or peppers but Vanaheim did, and it was not uncommon for warriors to challenge each other to withstand the burn of them when they had the opportunity. Loki was beginning to suspect that the Midgardians would not fair terribly badly in such a contest.

***

The next day followed a similar pattern, only this time the food was far too greasy and salty and the day after that it was too sweet.

The same four walls of his room started to feel like a new cell, another space he had been confined to. Loki slept there, ate there, did his research there, and the only respite he got were brief visits to the kitchen. He began eating in the shared living space instead, strictly reminding himself that no, he was not doing it due to hopes of having company that provided a welcome distraction from his own internal monologue, and when he discovered how much more comfortable it was there instead of his own quarters, he migrated his books and notes there as well.

He’d had thoughts of seeking out Stark when his research appeared to be proving the most futile – not for information but rather for alternative ideas. Tony’s mind worked very differently to his own, Loki had found. It worked with flashes of inspiration rather than in a linear fashion following a clear thread of logic and that meant Tony was able to generate ideas or speculations when Loki’s own mind would have gone in different directions. If they – or rather just Loki – became more conclusively unable to locate the Norns – which was looking likelier and likelier the more Loki read – then an alternative solution to figuring out exactly what might have happened regarding Thanos might be necessary.

Loki had declined the option of discussing the matter with Tony after a little deliberation. Knowledge of the Nine Realms, of the Norns, of the tapestry the Norns wove – that was all Loki’s area of expertise and if he had to resort to asking a Midgardian for what was essentially advice then he might as well consign his soul to Hela straight away.

The thought of it caused Loki to sit up straighter. Of course – Hela. How had he been so blind? Hela was the one with the access to the Norns;, she had been the one to arrange for Loki and the Norns to meet. Hela must have had access to them somehow and knowledge of their whereabouts or the means to contact them. Perhaps Loki had been too direct with his lines of enquiry, perhaps he had been looking in the wrong places when what he should have been searching for was the route to Helheim. Not that going there would be wise. Hela would likely not allow him to leave if he entered her domain with nothing to offer but more demands to make of her. It would have to be a desperate last resort – the chances of him returning were probably lower than their chances of success if they continued acting blindly.

"Mr Stark requests that you join him in his workshop," Friday said, her voice startling Loki from his thoughts.

Loki took his time placing his bookmark inside the page and unfolding himself, irritation causing his features to darken. He was not some servant to be summoned or some lackey to be called upon, but Loki could only assume this had something to do with the Time Gem and even he saw little point in refusing to cooperate for the sake of his pride and to give Tony a lesson in polite etiquette, given what could be at stake.

***

The doors opened for Loki, revealing a large brightly lit room littered with chunks of metal and wire and materials and technology Loki did not have names for. Most of the surfaces of the worktops were filled with scrap materials, half-formed inventions, and notes that were both in paper form and in technological form, hovering mid-air like illusions. Tony was stood with his back to him, examining one of the said illusions and using his fingers to rotate it.

The doors of the lift closed behind Loki, the sound gentle but loud enough to alert Tony to his presence.

"Oh – hey."

"What is it?" Loki asked flatly.

"Well hi to you too," Tony said, making a motion with his hand to beckon him over.

Loki remained where he was stood.

"Our alliance does not mean that I am a creature to be summoned at your beck and call."

Tony directed an odd look at Loki with his red-rimmed eyes. "Never said you were, buddy."

"Your actions have spoken otherwise."

"My actions?" Tony repeated. "What – is this because I asked Friday to send you a message?"

“If you require my presence for something in the future,” Loki said, “I suggest you bother to exert the effort of informing me yourself rather than–”

"Rather than what? Choosing the most efficient way of asking you to come on up?"

Loki misliked Tony’s tone. "Are you forgetting who you are speaking to?"

"It’s kind of hard to forget when there’s a Norse deity staying in my tower. And it's not like I went 'ooh I know what'll get his royal Asgardian ass in a twist' and–"

"What is it that you wanted exactly, Stark?" Loki interrupted, crossing his arms.

"Oh – you're back to that name now, are you?" Tony asked. If the change bothered him, he showed no signs of it, continuing on as if nothing had happened. "Anyway, I wanted to run a little experiment. See, I've been working on making sure there's no way Ulton will happen again so I've been disconnecting the internet, Bluetooth, you know, anything that it could use to escape into the outside world if this goes badly. And after a bit of tweaking I finally managed to start getting some readings from the Time Gem."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Trouble is the results aren't telling me a lot yet. Because it's magic, it's fairly new to Friday. It's not like I have much to compare it to. So I'm thinking I'll need a control. That's where you come in."

"And by that I assume you wish me to grant you some sort of favour."

"Well, yeah. You've got magic I can compare to the Time Gem and who knows, we might even be able to correlate some of the essence of your magic with how your magic effects the world around you and line those results up with the stuff the gem emits. I'm having trouble distinguishing the magical part from the radiation and other energies or whether they’re all the same thing or what."

"And you want me to what, exactly? Stand still while you dissect–"

"Actually, all I'll probably need to start with is you to just conjure an illusion or something."

Loki eyed him with scepticism. "That's...all?"

"Yup. That's all for now. Depends on the results, I guess. There's no need to look at me like that, you're not gonna become my next lab rat or anything."

“Why an illusion?” Loki asked. “Why not raw magic?”

“Uh,” Tony said, “first off I didn’t know that was a thing you could do. And secondly, part of the plan was to start off comparing the readings from you making illusions to the readings the illusions themselves emit. Then I’d be able to distinguish between what magically created objects look like and what magical activation or whatever you’d call it looks like."

“And I suppose that would allow you to get a better glimpse of when the Time Gem is responding to you specifically rather than it reacting in general.”

"Got it in one," Tony said, clicking his fingers.

"Then I shall acquiesce," Loki said, "providing that you do not presume to summon me like that in the future."

"Done. I'll get Friday to tell you please and everything."

Loki scowled.

"Fine,” Tony sighed, “I'll waste unnecessary time and energy walking instead of utilising the technology I already have."

Loki ignored Tony’s jibe. "Good."

"Ready to give this a shot then?"

“Now?”

“You’re here now, might as well.”

Loki conjured the first thing to come to mind: the Time Gem, sitting on the worktop bench alongside the genuine.

"Did you–"

"Behind you," Loki directed.

"Oh," Tony said. "Pretty convincing fake by the way. Shame about–”

“I must admit I am curious,” Loki said, coating the screens he assumed contained the readings with blackness. “I wonder whether you require your technology at all to be able to distinguish the real gem from the fake.”

“Is now really the time to go all trickster god on me?”

Loki smiled thinly. “Your technology is still a long way away from being able to sense how much you have connected with the gem. If you are able to pass the test, as it might be, then that would be a far faster indicator and measure of your progress.”

The corner of Tony’s mouth twitched. “Take it touching is cheating.”

“You presume correctly.”

“Challenge accepted.”

Tony approached the two gems sitting side by side and held a hand over each one. Loki had been anticipating having to wait longer but Tony’s answer came quicker than he expected.

"This one feels more you," Tony said, pointing to the one on the left.

Loki suppressed a smile. "Are you certain?"

"Yes. Absolutely." And then to prove it, Tony slammed his hand through the illusion. Unsurprisingly, his hand went straight through and collided with the table below. What had been rather unanticipated was the illusion remaining intact, entirely unimpaired and unaltered. "Huh? I thought–"

Loki made a shushing sound as he strode forwards to pull Tony out of the way so that he could examine the oddity more closely for himself. It was Loki’s illusion –  it should have dissipated when touched, that was what every illusion he conjured did so why had this one been any different

Loki hovered a finger over the false gem and then slowly pushed downwards through it. No shattering, no holes appearing in the illusion, no dissolving, just… Just as if nothing had touched the illusion at all, as if the illusion was able to withstand physical matter passing through it. So many questions were on Loki’s lips and–

"So it's not just me," Tony said. "That's not normal."

"This…” Loki said. “This isn't how it usually works." Loki withdrew his finger and swiped his hand through the entire illusion. The illusion looked as solid as ever.

"Uh – been reading some new spell books lately or something?"

"Hardly."

“Then–”

“Unfortunately,” Loki interrupted, “I have no concrete answer. This– This isn't how illusions work; once the illusion has made contact with something concrete, the illusion becomes impaired."

"So you make what are essentially holograms now?"

"I don't know what these holograms are that you speak of. I used the same conjuring methods without alterations as I have always done, I do not understand why–”

"If this isn’t you just improving your magic, does that mean this is another weird alteration? Like if time's gone all haywire, maybe you’ve learned how to make holograms without realising it yet? Or if we’ve actually switched universes, maybe in this one your magic works differently?"

Even from Loki's perspective, the theories sounded rather convoluted and unlikely as they went against the very nature of illusions: illusions were made to be breakable, that was what made them illusions instead of conjurations.

"I have a different theory," Loki announced quietly.

"Oh?"

"It has to do with the Tesseract."

"The Tesseract? But the space stone doesn’t control reality, only–" Then realisation dawned on Tony's face. "Except gems are more than just magical containers for each of the elements… They’re powerhouses. So you think you’re doing what exactly? Channelling its power without realising?"

"That is exactly what I think."

"So the Tesseract is what? Some kind of huge external magical battery you're getting extra juice from?"

"I... I believe so."

Tony let out a laugh. "Fucking sweet."

Loki supposed he had noticed the effects of teleportation decreasing with time and had attributed it to the Tesseract being more compliant. There had been no pain the last time he teleported, or the time before that, or... Now that he came to think of it, Loki struggled to recall precisely when the last time he had felt the ill effects of the Tesseract had been. But Loki felt no different; there was no surge of power coursing through his veins and there was no magical signature he had registered mingling with own. Perhaps it was because – assuming his theory was correct – the Tesseract was not lending him any more power over the domain of space, but was lending him its energy instead. Maybe the two were two distinct things that could be channelled separately. Maybe the fact that Loki felt no different was an indicator that his system and the Tesseract were more compatible, rather than it causing his senses to go into overload. Maybe he had somehow finally passed the things that felt like tests the first time he had wielded the Tesseract, maybe the lack of feeling meant that the Tesseract had no objections to lending him some of its power. The fact that it was subtle enough for Loki to not have noticed...

When was the last time he had tried to dispel an illusion like that anyway? When had this change happened? Had it happened gradually or all at once? Was there any other form of power he had unknowingly unlocked? Was it only his illusions it had affected or were there other areas of magic it had affected too? Was it possible that the extra power could be channelled through non-magical means as well?

And more to the point – how could all this have happened without Loki being aware of it? Was it simply a matter of it occurring gradually over time or was there something more to it, like Tony had originally theorised?

Loki’s lack of awareness of the alteration was somewhat disturbing but it did not override the glee that without even putting conscious effort into it, Loki was closer to the Tesseract than he had ever been and the possibilities of that – _so many possibilities_ – made his breath catch in his throat.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not the lengthiest of chapters (I've moved house within the past two weeks and have also adopted pets who I adore already) but writing is finally starting to not feel like trying to draw blood from a stone again. Maybe because I've been so busy it's been making me focus more during the little free time I've had to write. Later chapters should be lengthier anyway and who knows, maybe I'll be able to give a weekly chapter here and there instead of only every two weeks.

The next line of Loki's research had him diverging into research on Hela. For such a powerful figure, she was an oddly elusive one; little was known about her other than she governed Helheim and thus had earned the title of the Goddess of Death.

Thanos had, Loki recalled, much preferred to name her Lady Death and Loki wondered why that might be. Thanos was no god regardless of how much he desired the power of one and perhaps he misliked the unequal standing in their titles – Thanos the Mad Titan and Lady Death sounded like a much more evenly suited match than Thanos the Mad Titan and the Goddess of Death.

Loki supposed he shouldn't have been surprised that so little was known about Hela – few, if any, could have returned from the realm of the dead to speak of her, although that did raise the question of how the realm of the living came to know of her. She was like a shadow in the pantheon of the gods; it was almost entirely universally accepted that she existed and yet none had seen her face or heard her voice – none except Loki. The legends of her contained details of a face half rotten and mutilated, the face of a child, and yet Hela was neither of those things. 

Loki found no mention of Hela and her relation to the Norns or how a live soul could enter Helheim or escape it. But he did manage to find one curious detail, a detail that was consistent across all of the sources he used: none of the books contained a single mention of her before she became the Goddess of Death or of her origin and how she came to be. Without exception or giving a singular reason, all the books and scrolls and journals had collectively revised themselves at one time or another, omitting the information they previously contained and dismissing whatever they had stated earlier as inaccurate and unfactual. Stranger yet, the changes in the sources had all happened within a relatively short period of time – it might have occurred a couple of thousand years ago but Loki doubted Asgard’s priorities with regards to its scholars and recorders of history had changed quite that much since then.

Loki had tried to dig deeper, wondering, or perhaps hoping, if Hela had created or discovered a method of contacting the Norns that could be linked to whatever information had been so thoroughly revised. He found nothing.

Finding nothing was rapidly becoming a regular occurrence.

Weary of being defeated by scrolls and papers and books, Loki decided to pay Heimdall a visit. Thor had instructed Heimdall to answer what questions he could he saw fit to answer and Loki thought he might as well make use of a person who had little motive to lie to him. That, and the fact that Heimdall was one of the few people Loki knew who was of age when the revision had taken place became rather significant factors. 

Heimdall’s recollection of the time period had only added to Loki’s suspicions. Not being able to recall a very specific revision of information from a significant length of time ago alone would have been understandable, especially given that watching over the maintenance of libraries and scripture was hardly Heimdall’s duty – why would Heimdall have any interest in reading when he could simply cast his gaze into the sky as see as far out as he wished? Why would he immerse himself in literature when he had the sights the whole of the Nine Realms had to offer at his disposal?

The lack of conviction in Heimdall’s voice had further implications, Loki was sure of it. His descriptions were vague and inconsistent and there was something else there too, something that at first Loki struggled to identify. That thing was doubt. If Loki was correct, he had for the first time witnessed the barest trace of uncertainty in Heimdall.

The conversation had left Loki with two possible conclusions: the first was that for whatever reason, Heimdall was lying; and the second was that Heimdall’s vagueness had not been deliberate. Heimdall, treasonous though he often was, was at least an honest traitor. If Heimdall wished to withhold information it was far more like his character to refuse to answer rather than fabricate a fiction of an unclear picture of that time period. Or maybe there was a third conclusion: Loki was reading far too much into it out of sheer desperation.

Deciding that it might be an idea to ask similar questions to another citizen of a similar age another time, Loki had returned to Stark Tower. Returning there with little to show for his efforts was becoming a habit but Tony, on the other hand, had been making more progress than Loki had been doing. Loki had been asked – by Tony in person on that occasion – to allow Tony to run scans on him while he wielded the Tesseract and he had not seen the man since. 

Loki was so used to Tony being anywhere but their communal living areas that it shocked him to see him stood in the kitchen. The shadows underneath Tony's eyes had grown and he shuffled towards the coffee machine, clutching some sort of cuboidal device with two long prongs like antennae sticking out of the top of it in his hands.

“Don’t judge,” Tony said. “It’s an early model.”

"An early model of what exactly?"

"Something to detect the energy signature of the Time Gem's magical energy to precise increments. And yeah, I mean the magical energy, not just the..." Tony rubbed his eyes. "...energy energy.”

Loki raised an eyebrow. “I hadn’t realised technology on Midgard was advanced enough for that to be possible.”

“It wasn’t.” Tony took a long sip of coffee.

"In fact," Loki said, "I'm uncertain if _any_ realm has technology advanced enough to do that."

Tony gave a slight smirk over his mug. "Well, one does now."

The realms that were home to magic users relied on their senses rather than technology to detect magic and for that reason, no one had any reason to attempt to create an artificial magic detector to do that job for them. The fact that Tony had – and all within a matter of days – well, that was...not unimpressive.

"Do you think you would be able to attune it to other Infinity Gems?" Loki asked.

Tony pulled a face. "Maybe the Tesseract. There's no way I can use it to track down the rest of the Infinity Stones across the universe. Sure, each one emits a massively powerful – and I mean a  _ridiculously_ massively powerful amount of energy – but other things do too when the whole universe is in play. The amount of interference from across space... There's just no way I could do it even if I did somehow know what each of their energy signatures are. I mean, each star is essentially a giant nuclear reactor – well, it's a bit more complicated than that but you get my point. _And_ ," Tony added, holding up a finger, "I’ve only been able to make this because I already have a gem at close range to attune to. But if the readings suddenly start going crazy with Infinity Stone type energy, at least we'd get some warning before our Thanos shaped problem makes a Thanos-shaped hole in the city."

"That may be useful."

"It's what I'm for, isn't it?" Tony's tone was light but there was a graveness in the lines of his face that were not normally as present.

Loki picked up the mug he had claimed as his own from the counter and gave a small indication with it, a joyless toast. "You and me both, it would seem."

***

The sound of shouting – no, not shouting, more of a loud dispute – roused Loki from sleep. It took him a belated moment to place the voice; it sounded familiar somehow and yet... _Ah_. It was the woman who had introduced herself as Pepper Potts, one of the people Tony had been the most relieved to see was still alive.

"Tony," Loki heard Pepper say, "you need to listen to me."

"I'm fine, Pep, I've gone way longer–"

"No." Her voice had become firmer.

Loki doubted there was imminent danger. If there was, something would have brought word such as Friday or Tony himself or maybe even word from Heimdall. No – for whatever reason, the disagreement had an emotional element.

Curiosity got the better of Loki and he made his way into the living space, acting as if he was doing nothing more innocuous than seeking breakfast. Neither of them so much as glanced in his direction; she was too fixated on glaring at Tony and he was too busy trying to pacify her.

"Tony," she said and something about her tone said that she'd done this far too many times before.

"I'm an adult," Tony replied. "For some reason, no one ever believes me when I say I can look after myself."

"Wonder why," Pepper said dryly. "Your own inventions are better at looking after you than you are. Friday was the one who called me here after you haven't slept in over fifty hours and–"

"Should've known just muting Friday wouldn't be enough," Tony muttered. "It never is."

Loki opened the fridge to search for the bread.

"Luckily, someone programmed a backup plan in case you were stupid enough to not listen to Friday," Pepper said.

"Me? Did my past-self do that? Traitor.”

Loki placed the bread in the toasting machine.

"Yes. You did. Because – like every other person on the planet – you're smarter when you actually get sleep. This... This isn't healthy, Tony."

Tony ran a hand through his hair. "Look..."

Suddenly, Loki felt as if he was intruding but there was no possibility of retreating now, not when the toast popping would give him away completely. Neither of them seemed to be paying him any mind, maybe if he was quiet enough…

No, that was obscene. Loki was a guest and they were in the shared area. If they wished their disputes to remain private they should have had them elsewhere and Loki would be damned if he was reduced to skulking around like some sort of timid rodent.

"I need get to the bottom of this as quickly as possible," Tony said. 

"You've also got to sleep," Pepper said firmly.

"You weren't there, Pep. You didn't see– I know everyone's fine at the moment, okay? I know everyone's still alive and kicking but I don't know how long it'll last... Or if it even  _will_ last. I can't lose focus just because everything looks like it’s fine."

"Tony," Pepper sighed, "I don't how many times I have to tell you that you're not personally responsible for the safety of the entire world but even if we ignore that, the fact is that not sleeping will make you lose focus anyway so–"

"Oh no, Pep. This is where you're wrong. In this case, I'm literally responsible for the entire world. Maybe even the universe."

"You're being ridiculous, no one can hold that much weight without breaking."

"Alright, maybe a slight exaggeration. It's not just me who's responsible for the entire world-slash-universe." Tony jerked a thumb in Loki's direction. "There's the other guy responsible." Loki found himself wishing his toast would cook faster. "So if I slack off," Tony continued, "it could be the end for everyone. It won't just be me in danger – it's not like I'll be the only person affected, okay? Everyone will be, everyone on this planet, everyone on all the other planets. Do you know how many billions of lives that is? Because I sure don't. And what's one guy feeling a little sleepy against all that?"

Pepper visibly deflated. "Tony," she said, gently this time. "I don't think anyone can hold that weight."

"I can. I have to."

"Why you, Tony? Why does it always have to be you?"

"Because if I don't," Tony said, "more people will die."

"You can't know that."

"I  _saw_ it. I _lived_ it. I faced the reality where everything went to shit and I'm not risking that happening ever again. So yeah, I can know that. Even if I didn't see anything, there are these three old women in the sky who can see literally every single choice and outcome so... And yeah, I know how insane it sounds."

Pepper was at a loss for words. And then, for the briefest of moments, her eyes sought Loki's as if she was pleading his help. Loki was spared having to respond by his toast loudly popping up and allowing him to busy himself.

"If you're going to claim responsibility for everything – which I stand by being ridiculous – how can you do that when you can't even be responsible for yourself? How are you supposed to think clearly when you've barely slept in a week? You say you've got stuff to figure out – then _sleep_ and maybe your brain will function how it should function. Trust that the universe won't collapse just because you're not fighting for it for several hours, okay?"

Loki did an immaculate job of spreading the butter.

"It might do. If Thanos is out there and–"

"For an intelligent person you can be incredibly stupid," Pepper said. " _Sleep_."

Tony looked downwards.

"You can't keep running on empty," Pepper reminded him.

Tony didn't reply.

"Promise me?" Pepper asked.

Loki picked up his knife and plate and deliberated the merits of eating elsewhere versus his pride.

"Alright," Tony conceded. "Fine. I'll sleep."

"Thank you. I'll be over again tomorrow."

"The protocols would call you if–"

"I know," Pepper said over her shoulder on her way out, "but I'm checking on you anyway."

Tony turned to Loki once she had exited. "Can you believe that? I'm so used to being sleep deprived that my brain might actually work better without it. I mean, practically all my eureka moments have been after like forty hours without sleep at least so my brain's practically conditioned to–"

"She does have a point."

Tony gaped at him. “What? You too? I feel betrayed."

"I lived through it too." Loki did not need to specify that he had been referring to Thanos's attack. "I understand just as much as you do that we need to solve this as quickly as possible."

"As quickly as possible doesn't involve spending a third of the time sleeping. If–"

"Not even Asgardians can go indefinitely without sleep and still function effectively."

"I wasn't planning on not sleeping period – I was gonna take catnaps, you know?"

"Based on what little I know of human biology, that would hardly be a sufficient amount."

"Of all the people likely to be concerned about my health, you'd be last on my list."

"You'll be far more efficient if you actually–"

"I don't even need that much sleep anyway. I must be in like the one percent of the population that can still function fine on four hours a night."

Loki rolled his eyes. "I don't know why you insist on arguing against the idea of a reasonable amount of sleep when you have already agreed to–"

"I don't like unnecessary delays, that's all."

"Did your mother never teach you that an arrow can only fly forward after it has been drawn back?"

"No," Tony said. "I don't know, maybe she would've done if she hadn't been murdered."

Loki stilled. When Barton had been Loki’s informant, he said it was a vehicle accident that had killed Tony’s parents, not murder.

Tony took another long sip of coffee, avoiding meeting his eyes and Loki wondered what had changed.

"Er," Tony hastened, "anyway – I've got stuff to be getting on with. I wanna see if I can make something that's compatible with the energy the Time Gem emits rather than just reading the energy it emits. I need to figure out how to channel it."

Loki frowned. " _Channel_ it? You mean _wield_ it. I doubt that any technological equipment would allow you to wield the Time Gem's power–"

"About that... I was thinking after the results the scan gave me – you know, the one where I compared you making an illusion with you using the Tesseract."

"Yes?"

"Well with the Tesseract, it was kind of like you were acting like a live wire. Like you flicked a switched and let the current flow straight through you. That's a simplified version of it anyway. This is a bad comparison but it's like the Infinity Stone's the one controlling the tap and you're whatever it flows into. A hose? Yeah. The Tesseract's both the tap and water source and you're the garden hose. Did I just make that analogy?” Tony put down his coffee. “Huh. Maybe Pepper did have a point."

"It would bring me relief to believe that your analogy would have been better if you actually had slept rather than the alternative."

"Honestly? Me too, buddy."


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, mistakes are on me.
> 
> And here we have on the fortnightly list of things I didn't think I'd end up writing but did: Loki meets an old dear.
> 
> As always, comments mean a lot and are great motivational writing fuel. Another huge thank you to those of you who have commented already (especially you guys who comment on each chapter - you have no idea how much that means).

"I've been waiting for you," Tony said the instant Loki emerged in the living space that morning, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet as he spoke. Loki rarely saw Tony before noon and on the few occasions he did, Tony often elected to communicate in a language of grunts and mumbles rather than using full sentences.

"May I ask why?" Loki would have been more worried if Tony had sounded concerned rather than something verging on excitement.

"I made something you'll want to see."

"Consider me intrigued."

"All right then, Intrigued. You know the drill: up to the workshop we go."

***

Loki had never seen anybody so eager about a machine that spat sparks like a fountain spitting water – apparently this was progress, though he had yet to hear the reasons why.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Tony said.

Loki looked between Tony and the machine and kept a clear distance from it. "I suppose the lights from the sparks would make a fine display if they didn't raise concern for my own safety."

Tony waved a hand dismissively. "Yeah, never mind that. You're ignoring the point. And the point is that this thing," he said, pointing a finger at the machine, "runs on Time Gem energy."

Loki was taken aback. "It does?"

"Yup." Tony grinned to himself. "It's Time Gem compatible. Well, virtually anyway." Tony's eyes were bright with delight and it made him look younger than Loki had seen him. "Want to take a look?"

"Show me."

Tony twirled his hand and bent his back in what Loki assumed was supposed to be an exaggerated form of a regal bow. "As you wish." Tony flicked a switch and a low whirring noise indicated the thing hadn't been fully activated up until that moment. The connections between the machine and the Time Gem glowed orange.

“The gem’s allowing you to extend its power,” Loki said in shock. “Do you have any idea how much of a step in progress that is?”

"I'd call it a leap in progress. A massive Olympic-level leap," Tony said, pressing a button that caused the noise got louder and louder and the smell of something burning beginning to accompany it. Heat rose in visible waves from some sort of nozzle at the front of the metal container. "I just need to find a material that can fully handle this kind of–" The machine exploded. "...energy.”

***

The guise of an unremarkable Asgardian citizen was one that Loki found himself often wearing as of late, especially with regards to the library. They had granted him access to the towers of the scholars, and it was only under the veil of a disguise that Loki truly realised how much easier it had been when he was recognised as a prince. Not that that would help him now. 

He knew little of the scholar he sought an audience with, choosing her as one of the few remaining writers who was still alive and of a sound enough mind to still be active and working.

Loki rapped sharply at her door at the top of the spiral staircase he had been directed to and waited. He expected a response, to hear the sound of footsteps or a voice calling out. Instead, it was silent. Loki knocked again, louder this time. Just when he was about to raise his knuckles to knock a third time, the door creaked open to reveal a wrinkled woman who stooped approximately three heads shorter than him.

She squinted up at him in confusion. "You're not my servant," she finally croaked.

"Is that disappointing?"

She coughed in attempt to clear her throat but the words came out sounding just as hoarse. "I was expecting him to fetch me my midday bread and honey…”

“My lady, I am sure that can still be seen to,” Loki reassured her.

She turned her gaze to him and eyed him more shrewdly than he had thought her capable of. “You fancy yourself quite the charmer, don’t you?” Then she broke into a smile. “Oh don’t look like that, dear boy. I find myself deprived of decent company on most days. Please,” she beckoned him in, “come inside.”

“That is most gracious of you,” Loki replied, stepping through the door as he did so.

“It’s been so long since I’ve last had a visitor,” she informed him. “And there’s only so many conversations you can have with your servants, you know how it is.”

“I do indeed.”

“Especially when you get to my age...”

Loki couldn’t claim to be personally familiar with that. “I can imagine.”

“Heh. The centuries will fly by and you’ll be as old as I am before you know it.”

Loki doubted he would have the good fortune to survive for that long, not with the penchant he had for making enemies. He gave her a thin smile. “So I have been told.”

“Yes, but you never believe it until it’s too late. You young gentleman are all the same,” she sighed. Loki couldn’t remember the last time he had been accused of being a gentleman before and wasn’t certain whether to be flattered to have earned the title or insulted to be accused of being the same as the rest of them. “You think you’ll never get old until it happens.”

“In that case, I shall endeavour to heed your warning as best as I am capable of.”

She twisted her lips and shook her head slightly. “My, you really are a charmer, aren’t you?” She shuffled further into the room, having to lean her weight on a stand as she passed it. “Take a seat, dear.”

Loki took the only other available chair assumed wasn't hers – hers was the closer one marked by the quill and parchment on the table in front of it. She manoeuvred herself into the chair opposite him and picked up the quill as if by force of habit. There was a slight tremor in her grip and it gave the feather the appearance of vibrating.

“You’ll have to wait until my servant returns before I can offer you anything, I am afraid.”

“Oh, there is no need.”

The wrinkles around the corners of her eyes deepened with humour. “Of course there is. You’ll stay longer if you have something to eat and drink.”

It took Loki a moment to respond. “You are too kind.”

“Anything to liven up my day,” she said and looked wistful for a moment. “They all start to feel the same after a while, you see.”

“I am sorry to hear that.”

“Dear me, you are intent on keeping me sweet, aren’t you? Go on then, boy. I have no complaints. What can I help you with?”

“This–” Loki began.

“Take your time,” she interrupted. “Please.”

"This might sound slightly odd..."

She leant forward ever so slightly. “All the better.”

"Well,” Loki said, “I was researching a particular topic and cross-referencing materials when I noticed all the writings I could find had been amended all around the same time period. And what's more, there are no traces of the information the original texts contained."

She stroked her chin. “ _All_ of them were amended?”

“Yes.”

“How peculiar.”

“I thought the same.”

"And you’re after an original version then, I suppose?" she asked.

"Well, yes. But that is not all."

"I do have a lesser known personal library which I assume is why you sought me out. I could lend you items you need if–"

"Actually," Loki intercepted, "the reason I sought you out was because you are one of the authors who amended the scripts."

She looked taken aback. "I am?"

"Yes."

"What book is this?"

“It was called _The Origin of the Aesir_. It was amended several decades after first being published.”

A slow light dawned in her eyes. “Yes,” she said. “That sounds familiar...”

“A chance to see the original script would be wonderful, but I do have a number of other questions as well."

“Ask away then, dearie.”

“Why did they all need to be amended?”

Her gaze had lost some of its sharpness. "It was a long time ago, you understand if some of the details are vague."

“Of course.”

“Let me think...”

"Certainly."

She closed her eyes to focus, frowning in concentration. Then her features went slack and Loki feared she had fallen asleep until her eyes opened, unfocused and uncertain. “I must apologise, I– I thought I remembered for a moment.” She shook her head and tucked away white strands of hair behind her ears. “That entire era is a blur to me now, I hope you understand.” She caught Loki’s eye and his unmasked disappointment. “But don’t fear, I won’t give up that easily. It’s not often that I get the company of handsome young men like yourself. I will try again.” She closed her eyes for longer and just when Loki thought she surely must have fallen asleep this time, she opened them again. “It’s there,” she said. “It’s lurking in the back of my mind but I just can’t _quite_ get through to it…” She smiled apologetically. “It seems my memory isn’t what it used to be. Perhaps if I jogged it somehow... ” She slowly pushed herself up to her feet, using the table as leverage. “I’ll tell you what, come with me and I’ll see if we can find the original text. I don’t know if I would have kept it, mind you, but it’s worth a look.”

Loki rose to his feet and offered her his arm, which she accepted, shuffling alongside him as they made their way towards another door at the back of the room.

“It’s just through here,” she directed. “It might be a tad dusty in there, I’m afraid. Some of the books haven’t been touched in goodness knows how long and there’s quite a lot of them too.” She paused to regain her breath and then continued on. “Are you in a hurry, dear?”

_Only in a mild rush to rid the universe of Thanos before he destroys it._ “I will search for as long as it will take,” Loki replied instead.

“You could be in there for some time. How things pile up, I don’t know–” Her words came to an abrupt halt as she stumbled over something on the floor and it would have caused her to fall if she hadn’t managed to catch herself on Loki’s wrist. “Dear me, sorry about that, how clumsy of m–” She cut herself off and stared at him, eyes wide.

Something seemed so utterly wrong in her expression that Loki felt compelled to ask. “My lady?”

“Loki...” she whispered.

Loki stiffened. How had she–

How stupid he had been. He should have realised his illusion would have fallen away the instant she had grabbed his wrist, the jolt of shock causing him to lose his concentration and momentarily forget the importance of his disguise. He shouldn’t have let her get so close. He shouldn’t have risked revealing his true character like that all because her body was frail and she needed assistance walking. He shouldn’t have let her convince him that he was some sort of gentleman and act accordingly. 

_Sometimes,_ Loki thought, _I am worse than Thor._

“Tell no one of this,” Loki murmured. Those were his last words to her.

***

Another trail of potential clues had led Loki nowhere. One of these days, he would no longer be surprised when that happened.

He had still held hopes when he had crept into her library in the dead of night and he had still held hopes when he found the box containing the other publications she had written around the same era, but it wasn’t until he found nothing but the outer bookbinding of the title that he truly began to understand what frustration was.

He had found himself cursing the Norns far more often than usual as of late. Sometimes, Loki was so certain they were the reason for all of this, for all his narrow misses of small victories. 

Tony’s progress only caused him further conflict. Of course, Loki wouldn’t have wished for Tony’s progress to be hindered all in order to quiet his questions of his own adequacy. Sometimes, it was a relief to see that at least one of them had made _some_ progress. And other times… Well, other times it caused Loki to question why he was staying on Midgard at all if his presence was no longer required.

Regardless of which side of the dilemma witnessing Tony’s progress fell on, Loki could not deny that it was an excellent distraction.

"What," Loki said when Tony presented him with his latest invention, "is  _that?"_

"See this thing here?" Tony pointed a finger at the semi-transparent dome shape sitting on top of the device. "It's basically a variation of the arc reactor, complete with casing and all. I needed something that’d be able to withstand the energy from the Time Gem without blowing up in my face and I was thinking my arc reactor did a pretty good job stopping you hijacking my brain with the glow stick of destiny so…”

“... That makes sense.”

“Yeah,” Tony said, “it’s surprising how often stuff I do makes sense. Anyway, I had to use vibranium for the rest of it because it’s the only metal I’ve found that can actually deal with that amount of energy without – you guessed it – exploding in my face. Only the best for an Infinity Stone, I guess.”

“Vibranium...” Loki murmured. “How did you get hold of vibranium? Even on Nidavellir, the metal is extremely rare. I wasn’t aware that Midgard even has its own sources of it.”

“It’s rare here too.” Tony fingered his beard. “Very rare, actually.” And then with deliberate offhandedness, Tony added, “I had to melt down Cap’s shield.”

"Ah. And how has he taken the news of the fate of his beloved shield?"

Tony shrugged but there was a rigidness to his shoulders that made the movement look unnatural. "He left it to me. So I guess that means I get to do whatever I want with it." Tony might have sounded convinced but he there was guilt in the features of his face.

"He _left_ his shield?"

"Technically, it belonged to my father."

"Technicalities aside, I find it odd that he would voluntarily relieve himself of his ridiculous shield."

Tony’s face tightened. “I told him he didn't deserve it. Apparently, he agreed. But hey – the guy's alive – it's not like I'm dishonouring his memory or anything. And if his shield gets to be used as part of protecting the universe, I guess it honours the legacy and all that." Tony looked everywhere but at Loki.

"I take it this happened during the…” Loki began, pausing to search for a word that wasn’t too harsh, “disbanding of your team of Avengers."

"Yeah. You could say that." Tony's voice was as stiff as his posture.

"And did he?"

"Did he what?"

"Did he not deserve it?"

Tony let out a false chuckle. “You know what? It’s really not that simple. Yeah, we had our disagreements about the accords, but he lied to my face about who killed my parents...” Tony trailed off and swallowed. “I don’t know, maybe anyone trying to protect the innocent deserves the shield.” His face was hard as he determinedly stared out of the window. “I mean, we both were trying to but I– I would’ve killed Barnes if Steve hadn’t stopped me. Sure, Barnes _did_ do it but it wasn’t him, not fully. Hydra fucked with his head. They made him into a monster. They made him kill my mom.” Tony’s face twisted with self-loathing. “And I would’ve killed him, Loki – _killed him_ – all because I was angry and couldn’t see straight. Who’s the real monster there? Me or the guy who wasn't even in control when he killed my mom?”

“I killed the monster that killed mine,” Loki said quietly.  

Tony stopped and met his eyes like he was desperately searching for an answer. His voice sounded small when he asked, “Did it make it any better?”

Loki gave a single huff of dry laughter. “I died.”

“Oh.”

“So to answer your question: in short, no. Although I cannot say that I regret it either.”

“I'd wondered how you died. It’d have to be one hell of a thing to take you out.”

“Am I supposed to be flattered?” Loki found some dark amusement in that.

“Take what you like from it,” Tony said. Then he grew more serious. “For what it’s worth though, I’m sorry about your mom.”

Loki gave a stiff nod. “My mother has taken to Valhalla as well as can be reasonably expected.”

“Valhalla, huh?” Tony’s lips lifted upwards. “I guess I should’ve known your and Thor’s mom would’ve been a warrior-mom.”

Loki found himself giving a small smile in return. “Not in the traditional sense of a warrior. She was skilled both with and without a weapon.”

“Figures. You take more after her then?”

“She always told me so.” Though Loki had his doubts after everything he’d done, after all the multiple ways he’d betrayed her. _No_ , a small voice whispered in his mind,  _not just her_.

“That’s a yes then.”

“She wanted me to make the deal with Hela,” Loki found himself admitting. Tony, for once, remained quiet. “Even though a clause was that if I fail I will lose any chance of ever seeing her again.” Loki had so many questions about that.

Tony must have picked up on traces of Loki’s doubt because he then said, “Because she thinks you’ll win.”

“Or because Hela revealed how much danger Thor was in.” Or because maybe Frigga would be content to spend an eternity without Loki after all he’d put her through.

“Or because she knows you well enough to know you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself – no pun intended – if Thor got badly hurt.”

"I will take great delight in ignoring that tasteless pun," Loki said, pulling for a distraction. It worked – it made Tony laugh.

“Since I never asked – how was Valhalla?”

Loki cast Tony a slightly odd look. “... Good? For the brief length of time I was there.”

“Do you guys get humans in Valhalla? It must be nice knowing you’ve got somewhere to go when you die, and you, pal – you got to experience the whole thing yourself. Kind of like an NDE except you actually died and it would’ve been for good. See, we don’t have that kind of reassurance here. For all we know, this life is it for us.”

“I… I didn’t have the time or reason to attempt to distinguish the race of every person in Valhalla. I don’t recall seeing any Midgardians but then again, I wasn’t searching for them either. I suppose it isn’t impossible.”

“That’s not as bleak as I thought it might be. But if Valhalla’s real then so’s Hel or Helheim too, right? Because that’s got to be more bleak. I think I’d prefer to rot in the ground than face an eternity of that.”

"The Hel I know of is not the same hell as of some of your religions. It is not a place of torture, merely a place for those that did not die a glorious death. But even so, I would expect it to be a grim place."

"You don't say," Tony said dryly and cocked his head to one side. “What defines a 'glorious death' anyway? What’s that supposed to mean? Is there a grading system? A scale of one to ten? A panel of judges? Oh god, it’s like a reality show. Please don’t tell me people have to call in to vote for their favourite to get into Valhalla.”

“No,” Loki said, “just Odin.” Or there _was_ just Odin anyway. Loki wondered, not for the first time, if the council had managed to create a solution for the souls that could no longer be directed and given a place by Gungnir.

Tony pulled a face. “Just one guy?”

“That is correct.”

“Doesn’t sound like his verdict would be biased at all or anything. Sounds like a real fair system he’s got going on.”

“If Odin was still king,” Loki said, “as the Allfather of the Nine Realms, those words would technically be treason.”

Tony snorted. “Haven’t you guys ever heard of democracy?”

“Only against Odin’s own wishes, I am sure. But I, for one, am quite enjoying hearing this particular brand of treason.”

“Oh? You like me slagging off your dad?” Tony grinned at him. “If I do yours, will you do mine? We can start a Shitty Fathers Club. Trade insults, friendship bracelets, yell up at an empty sky, that kind of thing.”

Loki blinked at him. No one he knew would have dared slander the Allfather like that, let alone relish it. Then again, this was Tony Stark. Loki supposed his expectations should have been adjusted accordingly. Authoritarian, the man was not. But to actually come even the slightest bit close to siding with Loki against the Allfather… That was something Loki was having trouble accepting had happened, let alone responding to it, even if it was in words and not deeds.

“I’ll make you an invite,” Tony continued. ”Weekly sessions on Tuesdays – how’s that sound?”

Loki laughed. “Wonderful, if not for our schedules both being a little busy at the moment.”

“Yeah – speaking of busy, I’ve been slaving away over this thing.” Tony gestured to the invention they had temporarily forgotten about despite it being the original purpose of their meeting. “And it’s finally paid off.”

That peaked Loki’s interest. “How so?”

Tony grinned at him. “Let me introduce you to my new laser,” he said and adjusted a dial Loki hadn’t noticed was attached to the contraption.

A beam of unmistakably amber light shot out of a miniature hole by the side of the dial. At first, Loki wondered what he was supposed to be seeing besides the light but then–

“Is that...” Loki uttered.

Tony grinned wider. “What did you recruit Hawkeye for if you’ve got decent enough eagle eyes of your own?”

Loki was too transfixed by what he was seeing to bother to formulate a response. The change had been so subtle, so barely perceptible that he wouldn’t have registered if he hadn’t already been searching for a noticeable difference. Because right where the light cut through the air, right where it illuminated minuscule speckles of dust floating in the air – it had dawned on him that the pieces of dust were no longer moving.

They were completely and utterly still.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, mistakes are my fault.

Out of pure curiosity, Loki was half-tempted to wave a hand in front of the beam of light just to see exactly what would happen.

"Wouldn't recommend it," Tony remarked. Loki hadn't realised he'd been quite _that_ transparent. "Not unless you're volunteering to be my guinea pig."

"What," Loki asked, "is a guinea pig?"

"Oh boy. Imagine a really talkative potato with fur and you’re not gonna be far off. No relation of the pig – the name's pretty misleading. It's just a phrase that means to be tested on."

"I see," Loki said. And then, "I believe I technically already did that before when you–"

"No, no – that was analysing. When I say tested on, I mean in the sense of having no idea what'll happen if you do it rather than just taking readings from you. I mean, presumably you'd just be slowed down if you touched it but–"

"Slowed down?" Loki repeated. "Not stopped?"

"Uh – no. See the pieces of dust in the air there? They’ve not been stopped completely, just slowed down to the point where you can't see them moving. This is the furthest I've got. I've not managed to hit them with a pause button yet, just slow them down to like a one frame per minute rate."

"Ah," Loki said. He did not understand what Tony was referring to with the frames but he believed he understood the general gist.

"I'm working on upping the scale – a pause gun would be one hell of a sweet thing to have but uh... My good buddy the Time Gem is only letting me use miniscule amounts of its power at the moment so..."

"Well," Loki said, "it can't go allowing you access to all its power at once now, can it? And besides," Loki added, "maybe it's giving you a hint."

"What – like 'work on something else, dipshit' – that kind of thing?"

"In wording, no, but in essence perhaps so."

"It's not like I've got other options when it's only letting me have a tiny beam anyway." Tony patted the machine that contained that gem. "No offence – I'm not complaining," he told it, "I just can’t wait to see what you’re capable of."

***

In the following weeks, Loki developed something on Midgard with Tony he never thought he would: a routine.

Days were spent researching, with Loki mostly reading and travelling to and from Asgard and Tony remaining in his workshop. Loki had some degree of success with tracking down the remaining authors, only to find disappointment when none of them appeared to be able to recall much about the rewriting of the books either. In some ways, the lack of clues revealed more than it hid: it meant that somebody or something had tampered with the memory of Asgard’s citizens. But the question remained of who or what. Odin had been Loki’s first thought – he was hardly above erasing and modifying history to suit his needs after all – but Odin’s own magic, as impressive as it was, was not able to alter minds – unless that was another thing Odin had kept a secret for all these years. Loki supposed he wouldn’t put it far past him.

The possibility of magical tampering was yet another discovery that meant Loki was forced to read yet more books to see if there was some way of reversing the magic or at least detecting who had placed it upon them, but information about magic that affected the mind was sparse due to it having being outlawed long before Loki had been born.

Loki had come across rumours of those talented with the craft of altering minds who dwelled in a hidden location somewhere in Alfheim but – unsurprisingly – their exact whereabouts had been difficult to locate. Besides their craft being somewhat against the law, there was the matter of that if anybody did happen to stumble across them, it would probably not be all that troublesome for the mages to make the individual forget the meeting ever took place and send them back on their way.

Placing himself among the mages was an option, assuming he was able to eventually find them, but Loki did not like that he knew so little of what they were capable of. If what they did was anything similar to the Mind Stone then they could have him do their bidding and could take the Tesseract from him in a heartbeat, not to mention all the other information they’d be able to extract from him. Even if Loki was able to guard his thoughts and true identity in their presence, it was still a risk he’d rather not take unless it became absolutely necessary.

A good portion of the evening he spent sitting in Stark Tower. Tony had decided that it would be his mission to find Loki some Midgardian cuisine he actually enjoyed and Loki had since been introduced to pasta dishes. By that time, they were in the habit of eating together more often than not and relayed information about each of their findings while they ate. Loki had discovered it to be beneficial to his thought process to verbalise his findings to Tony, who had not been familiar with magic for long, as it meant that the information had to be reassembled in a logical structure in order for it to be explained coherently, and Tony was very much capable of enquiring about avenues of thought Loki had not considered. Tony would often speak of getting ‘the sweet end of the deal’ before mentioning what invention he had been in the process of constructing. As of late, he had been attempting to alter the beam so that instead of it slowing down objects in time, it caused them to reverse, reverting to older and older versions of themselves.

“I’m not gonna turn water into wine,” Tony had announced one evening, “or even grapes into wine – I’m gonna turn raisins into grapes.”

That had still yet to be achieved but in the meantime, they had discussed the merits of such a device at length.

“I figured it’d be like pressing a rewind button on someone if I get this to a scale where we can use it on a person,” Tony had said. “Or who knows, maybe it’d even work on one of Thanos’s gems.”

Judging from the reaction of the Tesseract and how it seemed to respond by positively thrumming with excitement to the proximity of the Time Gem, Loki was not quite so convinced.

“I am not certain they would be quite so willing to be used to destroy one another.”

“Early days yet,” Tony had said, tightening one of the remaining screws at the table. “And it’s not as if it won’t come in useful in some other way anyway.” Tony placed the screwdriver next to his plate. “Right,” he muttered. “Moment of truth. You ready for this? Not everyone gets this kind of entertainment while they eat.” He jogged to the opposite side of the room and emptied a packet of innocuous-looking raisins on the settee.

Loki felt his eyebrow hitch.

“Grapes mean success,” Tony said, as if it was a commonly spoken idiom.

“I gathered.”

Tony bent down to squint through the line of sight on his device and used his finger to pull a trigger. An orange beam, slightly larger in diameter than the beam of the light that slowed time, shot out and struck Tony’s target. With a gentle touch, Tony eased the dial anti-clockwise.

The two of them waited with intent, eyes searching for signs of the fruit ripening or its colour restoring.

If the change was happening, it was happening slowly enough that it was almost imperceptible and Loki was uncertain if he saw a raison grow slightly and look the barest hint more green or if his mind was deceiving him.

“You’re one tricky bastard, aren’t you?” Tony said.

“I thought you already knew that.”

“True,” Tony replied, “but I was talking to the Timey-Wimey gem, not you.”

Most evenings, Tony talked so much that Loki was always slightly both amazed and bewildered at how he still managed to eat his meal at the same rate as Loki did. At first, most of the topics of their conversations revolved around their…work? Loki was uncertain what else he could refer to it as. Unpaid labour? Unasked for quest? Undesired responsibility? Enforced obligation was probably a more accurate term. But on the days they either had little to discuss or little they wanted to discuss, needing a desperate respite from the usual day’s hardship, Loki allowed Tony to speak freely with little interruption. More often than not, Tony appeared to think it imperative that Loki should be more familiar with popular Midgardian tales and stories. Tony would be so eager that it was not rare for him to reveal all of the twists in the plot through his verbal narration of the tales and every so often, Loki would find himself being able to connect some of the bizarre statements Tony habitually made with a piece of Midgardian media. Asgardian tales did not have nearly so much variety and so Loki had developed a habit of adding his own twists and turns to make the tales he told more interesting, even though he chose to narrate far less often. It had been a welcome change to be distracted so thoroughly by harmless tales and stories, one that felt like a breath of fresh air.

Pepper Potts was the most frequent visitor, often appearing to check that Tony had been sleeping and feeding himself, as well as consulting him about the branch of prosthetic technology the company was in the process of developing. Rhodey was another of Tony’s visitors, one who appeared torn between wanting to avoid being in the same room as Loki and making conversation out of politeness. In the end he chose neither, often opting to converse with Tony and let Loki be a part of the background if he happened to be around. Loki had some fun with that, addressing Rhodey with nothing but absolute impeccable manners and revelling in the man's not particularly well-disguised unease.  

Rhodey and Pepper Potts were the only other people Tony accepted into the higher levels of his tower. Loki had not given it much thought but somehow, he’d expected there to be more. The files he had long ago read on Tony spoke of rampant parties and debauchery, and now that he gave it more consideration, it seemed odd that Tony had so few he considered to be friends. Tony was hardly bashful and he was well liked among the Midgardians, practically a prince among them, and– Perhaps that was the reason for it then. Loki was certainly more introverted than Tony but he was not bashful either, and being born a prince gave him a status that automatically elevated him above others. Some wanted to befriend him as a novelty, others for his wealth, others for the glory of royalty, and then there was Odin who had taken him on the whim of him being a useful political tool. Suitable friends were difficult to find, particularly when those unlikely to be too intimidated or impressed by his status inevitably prefered the company of his brother.

And speaking of his brother, Thor was here but had yet to enlighten Loki on what the reason for his visit to Stark Tower was. Thor had first assisted the labourers Tony had employed to repair the window and had not left once the task had been completed. In fact, Thor had been very persistently attempting to speak to Loki alone and Loki had in turn been very persistently taking more of an interest than he normally would have done in what device Tony was in the process of modifying.

Loki usually prefered to avoid the workshop while Tony was metal-working due to the sheer amount of noise: rhythmic banging, scorching and drilling as well as Tony’s choice of music which, as far as Loki was concerned, would sound far too loud even if the volume was low – which of course it never was.

“Thor buddy – you wanna make yourself useful?” Tony asked, holding out a container with nails sticking out of it. “I’ve got this that needs hammering and you’ve got a giant magic hammer, I’m just saying.”

“It will be no matter,” Thor said. “Mjolnir is not just a weapon; it is also a tool to build.”

Tony patted him absentmindedly on the shoulder. “Drinks on me after.”

Given that Thor accepting the request meant that he was obligated to stay to complete it, Loki was about to take the opportunity to leave and lose what had started feeling like his shadow over the past few hours when he was interrupted.

“Loki?” Thor asked quietly once Loki had turned away.

“What is it, Thor?”

“May I– Can I speak with you before I help Stark?” Thor’s eyes darted between Loki and Tony. “Alone?”

“Ah shit,” Tony said, causing both Loki and Thor to startle. “Okay, okay, I guess you two probably have a lot to talk about. The thing is, I know how your little chats get so if I’m leaving the two of you alone in a room, it’s gotta be one with less of my tech in, kapeesh?”

***

Thor had not met Loki’s eyes since they had taken their seats in the living area.

Loki tried to place this, this level of unease that his brother so rarely displayed. On any other person, he'd call it humility.

Thor scratched his beard, his eyes distant, as if he was lost in thought.

Perhaps Thor had changed after all.

Loki had grown tired of waiting for Thor to state whatever he had travelled here for. Thor’s presence complicated matters. On some level, calling it a relief to see his brother alive would be an understatement, but on another level, Loki still hardly dared to believe it – or believe it would last, anyway. The only thing worse than watching Thor die would be having to watch it happen twice and for that, Loki found himself unwilling to spend time in Thor's presence when it was not necessary.

The silence strained on as Thor remained unspeaking.

"Out with it, Thor," Loki finally said.

Thor dragged his eyes away from the window. "Do you truly despise being around me that much? Can we no longer spend any time together without being at war over something?"

Loki struggled to recall the last time that had happened. They'd always been at war with something; in their childhood it had been imaginary enemies, in their youth and early adulthood it had been real enemies, and then later their enemies had become each other.

"Apparently not," Loki replied. He braced himself for Thor to hurl blame at him but it did not happen. _Odd,_  Loki thought.

"But if it is your wish then I will make this brief: I came here to propose terms."

Loki's eyebrows shot up and he laughed out loud. "Terms?" he exclaimed. "From _you?"_

"I believe they will benefit the both of us."

Loki laughed again in disbelief. "Oh, this is a new one. And since when exactly have any of your ideas benefited the two of us?"

Thor had the grace to cast his eyes downwards. Which was, Loki thought, a most un-Thor-like thing to do. So un-Thor-like that he almost did a double take. Thor might have matured slightly over the last few years – but that much? Surely not. There was guilt there, Loki saw. But for what reason, he could not identify.

"It's not too late to start."

Loki's laughter fell completely silent.

"And why," Loki said, anger seeping into his voice "would you start now?"

Thor's fingers tightened on the cushion he held and he met Loki's eyes again. "I believe you have changed."

_A lie,_  Loki's instincts told him. A cleverer lie, a subtle bending of the truth. Thor might have believed him to have changed but Loki doubted it was the true answer to the question. For all Thor's disquiet and tension, he had revealed an answer far too easily and the eye-contact had been considered, deliberate. For a reason Loki could never understand, far too many people were under the impression that eye-contact meant honesty – but the liars were aware of that particular misconception too, and the knowledge allowed them to weaponise it.

Loki was almost impressed that, poor though Thor's lie or mistruth might have been, he must have strayed down the path of dishonesty willingly and not entirely incompetently. Any worse liar than Loki, or anyone who did not know Thor quite as well as he did, might have been fooled.

_But why?_ Why would Thor lie about such a thing? Loki could only speculate so much on what little information he had, but whatever the underlying reason was, it had caused the righteous Thor to see fit to evade the truth with something close to anxiety.

"I will humour you and listen to whatever you have proposed, if only to entertain myself," Loki replied.

"Good," Thor said. "I want to know where Father is."

"Not enjoying your rule, brother?"

"You know damn well that..." Thor placated himself by pausing to take a breath. "You know that I did not want to rule Asgard." And gone was the anger that had accompanied Thor's realisation that it been Loki he had been speaking to instead of his father during that conversation. "But, as I have said before, with this threat you have spoken of I can think of none better to guarantee the safety of our people than the Allfather."

"The Allfather is a guarantee of _war_ ," Loki corrected him, "not safety." What Asgard would need against Thanos would be a surrender and Odin would never grant it.

"Then if not for our people, do it for our family."

Loki stopped still.

" _Family?"_  Loki repeated. “Is that what this is? Is that what you _want?_  This is the closest our family has been to peace for years and that is because Mother is _dead_ and Father is nowhere to be found and because we are too preoccupied with our impending doom to truly fight each other as we wish to."

Thor looked stunned. "Loki – I... I have no wish to fight you."

"Then if not to avoid a mighty blow from Mjolnir, why in all the Nine Realms would I allow you to release the Allfather?"

"Because he is our father."

"Not good enough."

"Then because I am your brother."

"You being my brother changes nothing. What do you think will happen? I allow you to release Father and we all return to the palace to feast together and spar together like we did when we were children? No. Odin will imprison me and I cannot allow myself to be locked away once more."

"He won't," Thor said so quietly Loki barely heard him. Then Thor spoke louder, "I will not allow that to happen."

"How touching this sudden change of heart is."

"Loki, is now really–"

"And what has spurred that, I wonder. You certainly didn't have any qualms against my unjust punishment the last time. You didn't so much as deign to visit me until you needed me. And now it is much the same. You want me to continue doing whatever it is I am doing, except with more supervision on the off-chance that I use whatever skills or objects I have gained along the way to seize more power. And then you can claim a victory not only for aiding the Nine Realms against Thanos by risking trusting someone with morals such as my own, but for finally bringing me, your lost wayward brother, not just to heel but to the side of the righteous.” Loki’s face was set in stone. “And all that accomplished with little more than a family reunion." The words had been bitter as they left Loki’s mouth but his voice became gentler when he added, "It is nothing but a foolish dream, Thor."

"The Allfather has no grounds to imprison you," Thor said.

"Aside from treason, breaking Asgard’s peace terms against other realms, the patricide, the arguable regicide attempt, the attempted genocide, the attempted subjugation of an entire realm, and – _ah, yes **–**_  more treason following that."

"You told me once that I should pay more attention to the wording of terms before I accept them. I think you should do the same."

Loki frowned. He was not used to Thor taking him unawares. "What do you mean?"

"Your sentence was spending the rest of your life imprisoned," Thor said, and the muscles in Loki's stomach tightened in fear of what might follow, "and – those hours fighting Malekith and the Kursed aside – you _did_."

Loki's lungs had seized.

Thor knew. Thor  _knew_.

Thor knew that his death had been real.

_But how?_

_Heimdall_ , Loki realised with growing horror. Heimdall must have told Thor, of course he would have done and probably long ago too – how could Loki possibly have overlooked–

And then it was Loki's turn to not be able to meet his brother's eyes. In many ways, dying would have been far easier than having to live through Thor knowing.

"I don't know what you believe happened–" Loki began, unsure of what lie or half-truth he'd have to spin to be at least halfway convincing.

"It was real," Thor said. "All of it."

Loki’s muscles were so tight it felt as if he could no longer move.

"Was it?" Loki murmured.

"I do not know how you did it but Heimdall saw you die as I did and then hours later after I was long gone, he saw you sit up again.”

"And naturally," Loki said, letting the cruel sarcasm soak his words. "because I only resurfaced hours later, there are no other explanations except that the act must have been genuine."

"He saw your wound close within a matter of seconds, Loki."

"You never had much of a grasp for magic, did you, Thor?"

"I admit that I don't. But I know this much – you aren't a healer. You know illusions and a handful of other basic spells from other disciplines, but you aren't a healer and you certainly wouldn't have been able to close such a wound without centuries of practice."

"That is not the magic I speak of. I have other magics too, other origins. Or did you  _forget?"_  Loki let the last word hang in the air between them.

Thor let out a chuckle and it was a sad sound. “If the Frost Giants were capable of surviving such wounds, we would know. But that is irrelevant. Loki,” Thor breathed, "everything you said – everything you _did_ – that... That was all real. You were all real and I..." Thor swallowed. "I underestimated you. I... I didn't consider that it all might have been real once I knew you were alive again. And for that I am truly sorry."

Loki couldn't stand it, how sincerely touched Thor was, how Thor thought him redeemed in his eyes, how Thor's eyes had become slightly wet and it was simultaneously the most gratifying and disturbing and pitiful thing all at once.

"I held you as you died," Thor whispered, "and I still doubted you. Even after you said you didn't do it for _him_ – oh, Loki–"

Loki recoiled backwards. He could withstand it no more.

"I said I didn't do it for _him_ ," Loki snapped, "not that I did it for _you_." Only an idiot would believe him now, only an idiot who witnessed Loki vowing it while staring right into his eyes, the last thing he thought he'd see – but then the only idiot who would believe him was sitting opposite him.

"For mother then," Thor said.

And that was easier. Even though Thor still looked doubtful, even though the reason for Thor speaking as if a single wrong word would shatter their newfound fragile civility into thousands of tiny shards was because he _knew_ , it was still easier if there was still a chance that Thor might be convinced it had all been for Frigga instead.

"And what would you give me in return?" Loki asked.

"What?"

"You spoke of a proposition earlier," Loki reminded him.

"Yes..." Thor said. "I... I believe I might have some information that will interest you."

The nerve of Thor. To suggest that he – a warrior, not a scholar or even a warrior with the slightest modicum of interest in academics or research – and in such a shorter time period too – could have retained information Loki was not capable of finding.

"Oh please," Loki's voice was dripping with sarcasm, "do tell."

"It's the Aether," Thor said and Loki's head shot up. "I know where Odin sent it."

And for that, Loki would have delighted in punching Thor. Either that, or finding Thor a gift greater than Mjolnir.  

Thor must have seen Loki's expression because Thor then added. "I found one of the people he sent it off with."

Loki’s jaw fell loose and he would have cursed Thor, cursed the Norns, cursed himself for his own bad fortune if he had been capable of speaking in that moment. How long had Loki spent meticulously following trails upon trails of clues when all Thor had to do was simply happen to speak to the right person? How was Thor so consistently favoured in his fortune? Why when this was Loki’s task – Loki and Tony’s task – was he finding himself outshone once again? This was Thor – Thor’s place was the battlefield, not instigating research.

"And I suppose you won't tell me where he sent it unless I cooperate with you," Loki said.

"You know the reasons why," Thor said and, to his credit, there was a slight hint of apology in his voice.

"And what if I refuse your terms?" Loki sounded far more convinced in the possibility of this outcome than he was in reality. "Would you put the safety of the Nine Realms in danger all for one man?"

Thor's mouth turned downwards and he fidgeted with his hands. "You understand why I shouldn't be king then."

"Oh, but this isn't a question of should haves and shouldn’t haves – this is a question of what happens now. Because I doubt that even _you_ would be quite that reckless." Loki looked to his brother. "You must have grown a little then, Thor."

"Then I would ask what happens to you after this is over, Loki. I could make it so you can walk free as a prince of Asgard or you could spend the rest of your days running from the rest of our people."

Loki thought that with the Tesseract at his disposal, it would be rather difficult for them to catch him. But the thought of returning home – as himself, in his own skin... That still impossibly held some appeal, even if he was uncertain how long he would wish to remain there for.

"So you are proposing that if I tell you where Father is, you will...what exactly? Voice that I should be freed? Rally up the citizens of Asgard to pressurise that council?" Loki let out a bitter laugh. "You know full well that I was never well-loved by the people."

"Perhaps," Thor admitted, much to Loki's surprise, "but you were never hated or despised either. And I would do more than voice my concerns: I would vouch for your honour."

Loki lapsed into silence. He blinked once. Then twice.

"My honour?" Loki repeated.

"You made it to Valhalla – even the Allfather saw your actions as honourable enough to grant it to you."

_So only in death was I ever worthy?_

"Vouching changes little–"

"I have the favour of the people and one of my acts, if you agree to our bargain, will be to officially null you of your sentence. Even if the Allfather was to try to reverse it, by his own terms you are free. You were bound to imprisonment until death – surely you see that? That's the exact brand of trickery that you always loved: making a person's own words their undoing." Thor beamed.

"I have to admit, I am vaguely shocked that you managed to figure that out."

"I learned from the best," Thor said and there was warmth in his words. "I may learn slowly, but I do learn.” Thor’s smile began to fade. “We should establish the exact terms before either of us agree to anything. If you tell me where the Allfather is and if he is alive and well, I will officially null you of your crimes committed in the past and will be your defence if Father should attempt to imprison you again for the same crimes. I will also tell you of where Odin sent the Aether in hopes that it will aid you."

Loki did not miss that Thor had stated where Odin _sent_ the Aether rather than where the Aether _was_.

“I will have a few adjustments of my own, of course,” Loki said smoothly and Thor’s face grew wary. “If the Aether is not to be found, our bargain will be void.”

Thor did not appear happy but he nodded anyway. “Do we have an agreement then?”

"I had not finished," Loki said. "Even with your word, I do not intend to remain so close by while Odin is freed. You may have given me your word but I have not forgotten that Odin has not and I do not want him interfering when I have other more important matters to attend to. Once I tell you, you must wait at least a month before retrieving him–"

"–a _month!"_

"Yes, a month." By Loki's estimates, a month would give both himself and Tony a nice amount of leeway for the use of the Time Gem, as well as a lengthy opportunity to explore whichever pathway Thor had provided.

Thor frowned. "Do you not think that you are pushing for your luck and overstepping boundaries?"

"Of course." Loki grinned. "A little opportunism is healthy."

Thor sighed. "Very well then, we have an agreement."

"I still have another term."

" _Another?"_

"Yes, another." And then, mostly because he could, but also just to see the expression on Thor’s face, Loki added, “I’ve always wanted a ship of my own.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loki has a habit of being simultaneously both very unlucky and very lucky.


	28. Chapter 28

In the end, Thor had agreed to the ship clause. There were a number of conditions, namely that Thor would commission an airship to be built only after Odin was deemed safe and so long as Loki remained in Asgard's good graces. Thor had phrased it as if Loki was already in Asgard's good graces, which Loki thought was laughable.

And then the information was to be exchanged. After much arguing, it was eventually agreed that an impartial judge was required; Friday fulfilled that role suitably, taking in the name of the realm and the location Loki had left Odin's body, as well as what information Thor gave her in a separate room.

Friday had questions about Niflheim and how to locate the statues Odin was disguised amongst before eventually deeming Loki's response as an adequate one. Whatever Thor had been disclosing to her had taken far longer for reasons Loki could not identify.

Friday made an announcement when she had reached a verdict that both responses were – as far as she could tell – acceptable.

Loki and Thor met back in the space for seating and Thor’s greeting smile was tentatively warm.

Thor opened his mouth.

"Where is it?" Loki demanded before Thor could speak, his words puncturing Thor’s hopeful demeanour.

"Knowhere," Thor said.

"Nowhere?" Loki echoed. Then his fury set in. "And they name _me_ a trickster. I must admit, I had not thought myself to be so susceptible to being fooled in such a way. What happened to your precious honour, _Thor?_  I cannot be held responsible as an influence because if it was _my_ antics you were attempting to mimic, then surely the attempt would have held some semblance of grace."

"You misunderstand me, brother. I said Knowhere. As in a place of not-knowing."

"That... That does not make any sense whatsoever."

Thor held out his arms helplessly. "I was not the one who named it.” Thor looked to the ceiling. “Now – Lady Friday, tell me: where is my father?"

Loki did not bother to inform Thor that Friday did not reside in the ceiling.

"Your father resides on Niflheim," came the machine's response.

Thor turned to Loki, his eyes growing harder and harder.

_And there it is,_ Loki thought. The disapproval he was far more accustomed to. The disappointment was a vast improvement over the gratitude; at least Loki knew what to do with disapproval.

"Loki. _Why_ ," Thor said, each word becoming more and more infused with anger, "is Father there?"

Loki folded his arms. "I believe you are already aware it is because I must have left him there, Thor."

"But _Niflheim!"_  Thor exclaimed. "Niflheim is so cold... Father would have... Loki – you must tell me: did you allow father anything to protect him against such cold? How could you leave him there?"

"In answer to your first question: no. In answer to your second–"

"Father is never forthright about his weaknesses, but he is old and even he could not..." Thor trailed off in horror. "He would have frozen." Thor stood upright. "Do you have any idea how much danger you put Father in? Any idea, Loki? He was already nearing his Odinsleep–"

"He was past nearing it, actually."

Thor’s stare had morphed into one of absolute horror. "And so you...left him to freeze on the bleakest realm of them all with the company of nothing but ancient exiles?"

"I thought it fitting. Don't you agree?"

Thor's shoulders were heaving up and down with each of his breaths. It was a mechanism of Thor’s Loki was familiar with, a series of movements Thor made when he wished to contain his rage.

"You..." Thor began. "We agreed that Father has to be alive and well."

"And he will be," Loki said, "once he has been warmed up somewhat."

Thor's glare told Loki he thought him nothing short of despicable.

"And you couldn't have simply locked Father up somewhere? You couldn't have ensured that he would receive food and drink and would remain warm?"

"Certainly not," Loki said. "His magic is powerful, even when he is weakened. I have told you already that I cannot risk Odin halting my plans and if Odin was mobile and conscious, it would only be a matter of time before his escape would be inevitable. Now," Loki said, with a less than pleasant grin, "you see that we are both men of our words."

Thor sat back down, slowly.

"I believe you were telling me about Knowhere," Loki prompted.

And with a weary sigh, Thor complied.

***

The relief that came to Loki upon discovering that, no, of course Thor’s discovery had not meant Thor had bested him in an intellectual pursuit, was immense. Loki thought himself an idiot for not realising sooner that Thor beating him to the chase of discovering the location of the unaccounted for Infinity Stone was down to nothing but sheer luck rather than skill. Thor’s luck, as it so often was with Thor, had come down to how charmed other people were by him.

And Thor had just so happened to have already befriended one of the people Odin had entrusted with sending the Aether away with – and that person had been Lady Sif.

Before Loki could ask where in the Nine Realms Knowhere was supposed to be located, Thor had rushed to explain that Sif and the Warriors Three had kept their silence partially because the Allfather had offered to forgive their previous treason if they did, and partially because there would be very few who believed them if they had spoken the truth.

“Odin sent Sif and the Warriors Three _outside_ the Nine Realms?”

“With his dark energy, yes. It must have exhausted him.”

Loki rather thought Thor was missing the point. “Odin _knew?_  Odin knew that there were other planets and species beyond the Nine?”

Thor shifted in his seat. “It would seem so.”

Loki let out a bark of a laugh. “Part of me is not surprised.” But in truth, that was not the complete tale; the other part of Loki had been surprised to learn Odin had known of other worlds and had elected _not_ to conquer them.

“Father had his secrets,” Thor said, and even though he had acknowledged the fact, Loki was disappointed to see how little it had changed Thor’s regard for his father. Thor still held much reverence and esteem for Odin, it was clear in how he spoke and in his eyes. _Father had his secrets_ , Thor had said, as if they should have accepted it as part of Odin’s right to privacy.

“Speaking as one of his secrets,” Loki said, his voice becoming harder, “I would have to say that Odin retaining his silence generally only benefits Odin. Do not make the mistake of painting Father as an altruist, brother.”

Thor’s mouth gave an unhappy turn. “I… I know that Father is not the man I once thought he was.”

Loki eyed Thor suspiciously. “You do?”

Thor confirmed the answer with a single nod. “I realised not so long ago that when you pretended to be Father, you were far kinder towards me than Father ever was.” Thor gave a chuckle that lacked humour. “I should have known that Father would never have granted me the freedom to walk away from the throne.”

“Of all the things I’ve been accused of, behaving too _nicely_ has never been one of them.”

Thor gave a laugh then, a genuine one, and reached out to clap Loki on the neck. Loki stiffened with the sudden contact but Thor remained oblivious, too caught up in whatever had caused the sudden change in his spirits to go from amused to earnest.

“I have missed you, you know,” Thor said.

Loki pulled backwards, not out of fear or revulsion or anger, but because in that moment he almost believed it.

***

Loki listened to Tony's ramblings about his struggles creating the device he claimed would reverse the age of objects as he ate. Why Tony was so fixated on turning raisins back to grapes he could not say, but he supposed the size of them was appropriate for the size the beam of light allowed them to work with. Then once it was over and Tony had quieted a little, Loki made a quiet announcement: "I know where the Aether may be."

Tony gaped at him and Loki enjoyed it far more than he should have done.

"Wait a second – you know where the Reality Stone is? The hell, Loki? What – did you find the Norns after all? And what was up with all that missing info? And more to the point – do we actually have an ally? Who’s controlling the Aether?”

Loki chose the last question to answer first. "A being named The Collector has it."

"The Collector?” Tony pulled a face. “I gotta say, alarm bells are beginning to go off. Don't trust anyone whose nickname sounds like a serial killer name."

"He is a collector of objects." _And beings_ , Loki privately added, _although they must be one and the same to him_. "Odin must have thought the Aether would be safer with him than on Asgard."

"Are you telling me Odin willingly just gave a thing like that away?"

"Those with more faith in the Allfather might claim that Odin received payment in making the Nine Realms safer. I, on the other hand..."

"You’re smarter than that. What did he get? Gold? No – if you can control the whole of reality couldn't you just summon a bit of gold? Unlimited resources is a way better business model than... How the hell do you quantify an Infinity Gem anyway?"

"I do not know what or if Odin received anything in return." Although, Loki admitted to himself that he was intrigued by that particular prospect.

"Oh." Tony looked slightly disappointed.

"I'm not even certain where exactly his museum is supposed to be either."

"And that's another creep box ticked."

Loki cocked his head to one side. "I don’t follow.”

“It’s like if I listed out everything that could make a guy creepy, he’d match all the criteria.”

“All this based on the fact that he owns a museum? I must admit, I am curious what else is on your list.”

“Er – traditionally a bit of a loner, broody, terrible facial hair...”

"How relieved I am to not meet all the qualifications of your list."

"Yeah, it’s kind of hard to have terrible facial hair when you don’t even seem to get stubble.” Tony let out a chuckle. “And okay, being honest, I’m sure if you had facial hair, it’d be immaculate. But regardless – trust me," Tony said, "you can turn on the creep factor when you want. A terrifying amount."

"Thank you?"

"Ever considered changing your career path from lurking on the dark side to becoming an ambitious thespian?"

Loki laughed at the thought of it. "I suppose the stage would be the one place where lies are welcomed."

"You'd do great here on Earth. Look at all that raw talent. And – from one junkie to another – it's one way to get your attention fix."

Loki found himself slightly less amused. "I’m not the one with the need for the eyes of mortals to be trained upon me."

Tony had the audacity to roll his eyes. "Here we go again with the mortal thing. Sure you're not a vampire, sweetheart? Because – speaking of checklists – you're pasty pale, don’t look like you should go out in sunlight, rock a suit, and don’t look anywhere near your age. And coming to think of it – how old are you, anyway?"

"I think," Loki said, "that you're digressing from the original point."

"This had an original point? Right. Yeah. The Collector guy with his museum of weird stuff. See? I was paying attention. So when are we paying him a visit?"

Loki blinked at him. "I beg your pardon?"

"When are we going?"

" _We?_ _"_

"Uh – yeah. I thought we agreed anything dangerous and it's better not to split up so..."

Loki rearranged his features to appear slightly less caught off guard. "Ah, yes. The problem with us visiting the Collector is that he will be slightly...difficult to reach."

"How difficult are we talking here?"

"As in he hails from outside the Nine Realms."

Tony's eyebrows lifted. "What's that supposed to mean? He's from another solar system? Another galaxy?"

"I believe so."

"Huh."

"The Bifrost will not be able to connect with such a place. And as I have not visited Knowhere before–"

"Nowhere? How can a place be nowhere? Why’s that even be a thing? Surely a place has gotta be somewhere, you know, otherwise it's not a place."

" _Knowhere_ ," Loki emphasised. "As in know not where."

"Ever thought of auditioning for Hamlet, Shakespeare? You should totally check out the local theatres, there’s gotta be something for you there. But seriously – where the hell is Knowhere supposed to be?"

"That," Loki said, "remains to be seen."

***

And so it was that Loki found his next task to be searching through Odin's very own archived material in hopes of some mention of The Collector or Knowhere or so much as at least an _acknowledgement_ that some place outside the Nine Realms had been known to Odin.

Loki couldn’t understand why Odin would keep it a secret. Why Odin, the king who conquered all the realms he encountered, would not mention that there was an uncountable number of worlds untouched by the Aesir. Surely, if he knew of others, he would have set his sights on those to conquer them too... _Unless_ , Loki thought,  _he couldn't_. If Odin knew it was an impossible task or if Odin prefered to have the Nine Realms under the illusion that he was the master of all the known worlds without having to undertake the sheer amount of effort it would take… Maybe Odin had grown weary in his age and had simply settled for the ruler of the Nine Realms instead of the universe.

But the questions remained of how Odin discovered this knowledge to begin with, and why no one else knew of this. Or how Odin had met the man who named himself The Collector. Or why Odin had entrusted this man with something as important as an Infinity Stone. The more Loki thought about it, the more questions he had.

The Collector, as described to Thor by Sif and then relayed to Loki, had been painted as a possessive character, one who brooded over his hoard like some sort of dragon. Neither Sif nor the Warriors Three had mentioned any special abilities that the man possessed, but they – including even Fandral, who rarely possessed the self-awareness to know when he was the weaker opponent – had all claimed instinct alone had made them cautious. The man must have had a powerful presence to temper Asgardians without flexing a single muscle, Loki concluded. And powerful allies, if that was what Odin had been to him.

Odin’s belongings contained centuries and centuries worth of scribbled notes and signed documents, letters from royal advisors and political leaders with high influence in other realms. The sight of it all was almost enough to make Loki seriously contemplate just _asking_ the Allfather, but removing the Allfather prematurely from his frozen prison would bring him tremendous dissatisfaction.

Loki began his search with an approximation of the timeframe: when the information had mysteriously disappeared or had been erased from the minds of the population. Perhaps it was in hope that his efforts had not gone to waste and that he had been following a trail of clues that were indeed relevant. But Loki doubted, or perhaps hoped, that the two discoveries – in one case possibly, and in the other definitely – both happening to have a common denominator of the Allfather was not a coincidence. Given how Odin concealed sending away the Aether, Loki did not need to search far to know that Odin would have hidden that secret well. But would the Odin of over almost two millennia ago have done the same? Loki could not know for sure, but at least having a vague idea of a potential timeframe allowed him to eliminate entire rooms worth of information, even if it was only on a temporary basis while he tested his theory.

Loki started with information Odin would have thought only he would have access to; if it was Odin who had been meddling with memories and how history was documented, then Odin’s belongings would be the likeliest to not have been tampered with.

Odin’s own personal vaults were less guarded than places within the palace such as the weapons vault, but the doors were still guarded adequately enough that it would have caused Loki trouble if he could not teleport inside.

His father had never allowed Loki unsolicited access as a child or even an adult, and Loki had known better than to request it. Not even the servants were granted access. It was exceedingly rare that he had been granted a visit, and more often than not the purpose of it had been for Odin to give both Loki and Thor a look at pieces of history Odin had saved. Some of the objects were sentimental – Frigga’s handcrafted pottery gifts, for example – whereas others reflected triumphs of the kingdom, such as signed peace treaties and alliances. There were shelves of papers, stacks of paintings, and rows and rows of cabinets of small belongings that had accumulated over millennia and millennia. It could take weeks – months even – to filter through all the content.

The deeper inside Loki walked, the mustier the smell grew and the thicker the layers of dust became. This was probably the only room dust had been allowed to accumulate in, and the volume of it was the main indication of how old the items had become. Every so often, Loki would stop to pick up a stray object to wipe clean and inspect, or reach to a parchment on one of the shelves and try to gauge the date in the faded lettering.

Yes, Loki realised with gloom, he would be here for a long time.

***

Sometimes Loki was envious. Not of Thor – those days had long since past – and not of those that were not burdened with his, _ah yes_ , glorious purpose – Loki did not allow himself to think of their comparatively easy existences – but of Tony. Where Loki's duties had become monotonous tedious dull work in the weeks past, Tony's seemed to be genuinely enjoyable. Tony made advancements in leaps and spurts and Tony took a particular delight in the potential each discovery of the Time Gem's capabilities brought him. Tony was able to rise from slumber each day without knowing what he would discover whereas Loki knew exactly what would happen: he'd read and search and was likely to find little except for yet more dust. Tony would scan and experiment and invent and create and interpret, and all Loki was doing was burrowing through parchments and objects that were better left forgotten. It wouldn't have been so intolerable if Loki's role had at least _some_ variation other than the style of script or the state of decay.

Loki found he would much rather have been in Tony’s workshop. There was an air of genuine excitement there and the gratification that occurred with knowing progress was happening  _somewhere._ On Asgard, every time Loki discovered something, it only unearthed more questions, and every time Tony discovered something, he came closer to truly wielding the Time Gem.

After another day spent searching Odin’s vault, Loki had returned to find that Tony had indeed managed to create a device that allowed him to slowly reverse the state of whatever object fell into the path of its light. The beam of light, Loki noted, had grown in diameter since he’d last seen it. Tony had demonstrated the device on plants and fruits and solid household objects, and Loki watched as the circle the light hit began to shrink or ripen or heal.

Loki thought it odd how much he would have prefered to be on Midgard instead of searching through Odin’s hoard of items, and odder still that he had not yet become accustomed to how quiet his days felt without Tony’s constant chatter.

Tony’s chatter was not the kind that did not allow Loki to insert a word in edgeways, nor was it the kind that was only used to mask over the awkwardness between strangers. It was not rare for Tony to express genuine interest in what Loki had to say, whether it was of other realms or the nature of Infinity Gems or some idle comment on Midgardian customs, and despite such a large quantity of words leaving Tony’s mouth, he had demonstrated that he possessed the ability to actually listen. Naturally, not always. But enough that Loki was no longer surprised when Tony would refer to something Loki had said long ago or implement one of Loki’s ideas into something he had been creating.

Loki had been wondering how long it might take Tony to adapt his design to be able to transform objects into their future state rather than their past state, when his hands habitually picked up a piece of parchment from one of the many shelves in the room.

The lettering had been so dulled by time that it was barely legible, but the style of it – a receipt – was instantly apparent. The fact that it was a receipt was not what had captured hold of Loki’s attention however; what had got a hold of his attention was that this was no ordinary receipt. This was the receipt for Mjolnir, commissioned by the Allfather and forged by the dwarves of Nidavellir. But what in particular stood out to Loki was the date. The date that was centuries and centuries behind Thor’s coming of age, the age he had been when Odin had presented him with the trials to earn his warrior’s token.

The note that accompanied it was concise in a true dwarven fashion. It read: _We hope our skills serve Princess Hela well._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ended up padding out the section between Loki and Tony getting back from Alfheim and the bit when Tony figures out time travel because the way it was originally written, it all happened way too fast. But in hindsight, I might have ended up padding it out a bit too much? I don't know, it just needed slowing down but er... It's possible I might have slowed it down a bit too much.
> 
> So if anyone has any opinions of the pacing, feel free to let me know. (Minor spoilers) They'll be another section of Loki and Tony travelling together very soon and the action will start to pick up again. Obviously, they'll be a few things that need to happen between now and the point of the story that can happen but how quickly that happens isn't set in stone.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update a bit later than my usual, I know. I decided to refresh myself on everything that's happened by rereading this story and then I started spotting _all_ the typos and weird sounding sentences so that was something that needed fixing...

Princess Hela.

_Princess_ Hela.

Not Hela, Queen of Hel, but _Princess Hela._

Not a princess of a domain of the dead, but a princess of the Nine Realms; she must have been, otherwise the dwarves would not have been physically _able_ to furnish her with a weapon.

Loki stared at the writing for longer, as if expecting the letters to rearrange themselves into something else, something that made sense.

Except that, Loki realised, on some level this _did_ make sense.

Loki saw little reason for Odin to have hidden her existence so thoroughly or commission her a weapon such as Mjolnir if she had not been important to him. And Hela might have been able to be mistaken for elven at a distance but up close, there was no doubt that she was Asgardian.

Which meant that Loki's origins were not even the only secret Odin had hidden.

Loki thought that Odin managing to smuggle a baby back to Asgard after a war without anybody noticing anything amiss had been one thing, but this was an entirely different matter: this was an adult, an entire entity – his _own offspring_.

Loki couldn't stop himself reading the words over and over:

_Princess Hela_

_Princess Hela_

_Princess–_

Loki could believe it of Odin to have altered the minds of all he knew and the documents of history to have served his own ends, but the question remained of _how_.

_And Frigga?_ Loki wondered. Was this another secret Frigga had agreed to keep, another thing she had fundamentally disagreed with but still would not protest loudly enough against?

From what Loki remembered of her, Hela didn't look like Frigga. But neither did she look like Odin, not like how Thor resembled Odin, with the same profile and eye colour.

And if all of that was true – if all of the evidence was what it seemed – then that meant Loki had a sister.

A _sister_.

A sister who just happened to be Queen of Helheim.

Loki wished family members who'd been previously unknown to him would stop appearing unexpectedly at inconvenient moments – if he could refer to her as a family member, that was. If anything, she was Thor’s. Thor had been Loki’s brother for too long for Loki to be able to truly think of him as anything else, but Hela was of no blood relation to Loki. The revelation of her lineage should have been a dilemma for Thor rather than himself.

Thor might have liked to have a sister at one time but Loki suspected Hela wasn’t what Thor would have had in mind somehow.

For a brief moment, Loki contemplated showing the receipt to Thor. Would it have brought him satisfaction to destroy Thor’s misplaced faith in his father with only one swift move? Or would Thor only willfully ignore it or invent excuses, each one more implausible than the last? Loki doubted that even a victory – Thor admitting out loud that their Father might have been a great figure but was not a great man – would bring him satisfaction. Sometimes there was nothing that filled Loki more with a viscous sweetness than defeating Thor, and other times besting Thor felt like something more akin to wounding a small animal, which in turn only riled Loki’s temper more. Whatsmore, there was the possibility that Thor, King of Asgard, being distracted could cost the realm greatly.

And while Loki was thinking on the topic of royalty, he wondered how exactly Hela had come to be Queen of Hel. Had it been Odin’s decree or a title of her own making? Had her blood granted her her throne or had it been the souls that inhabited the realm?

But none of it – not the receipt or the note – could explain why Odin had chosen to purge her from history.

The receipt stated a date a thousand years before Thor had been born. Before Odin had even married Frigga, Loki realised.

And then there was nothing Loki was aware of but his absolute _need_ to know, his desire to discover something that would connect the pieces and resolve of all his unanswered questions.

The latest revelation of Loki’s research made him investigate with a newfound efficiency, hunting through the items Odin had stored away over the millennia with unprecedented speed.

The traces of Hela were scattered but Loki was getting better at finding them. They were in places that had not been touched in ages, tucked away out of sight, and in places awkward to reach. Most of the objects he found only allowed him a brief glimpse of the past, such as maps of other realms marked with military strategy, records of armour and weaponry that had been ordered for Asgardian soldiers, and then there was the painting.

How odd it had been to see Mjolnir raised in the hand of someone who was not Thor.

There was no mistaking Hela; there was no discernible difference between the Hela depicted in the painting and the Hela Loki had met, just as there was no mistaking a younger Odin, standing by her side with his own weapon clutched in his hand.

Based on appearances, Odin had little need for his own sceptre, not when he had _Hela_ as a weapon. Corpses lay at their feet, thousands and thousands of them scattered like stars in the night sky and Odin and Hela were at the centre of it like a newly forged sun.

Odin had enforced his wrath across the Nine Realms like how Thor had first enforced his wrath with Mjolnir against the Jotuns, except that Hela had been Odin’s weapon rather than Mjolnir and Mjolnir looked little more than a tool in her hand.

How many had been slaughtered? Thousands? Hundreds of thousands? More?

Loki knew Odin had led wars but Odin had never made a mention of the sheer scale of these wars.

If this was how many Hela had killed in life, then it was little wonder she had earned the title of Goddess of Death in death. Loki wondered how exactly that had been brought about. Hela certainly would not have lacked for enemies.

Whoever her enemies had been, Odin had disposed of whatever evidence they might have left on their behalf. Loki assumed that, naturally, doing so would have also benefited Odin somehow.

Loki couldn’t tear his eyes from the painting.

Something was wrong – more than Odin and his _daughter_ , more than the sheer number of bodies, more than the fact that Mjolnir considered Hela to be worthy – Loki could just not place what it was.

And then Loki saw it.

Upon first glance, Loki had assumed the weapon Odin carried to be Gungnir, but Gungnir’s tip was not shaped in that fashion and if Loki looked closely, he could just about make out something glimmering and emitting a soft light from the head of the weapon. Loki had been too hasty to have called the object merely a weapon; it was more than that, more than an elaborately decorated sceptre. There was a reason this sceptre had been familiar to him: it was _the_ sceptre. The sceptre that had contained the Mind Stone.

***

"You're er...quiet. Quieter than usual. Broodiness maxed out?"

"I am fine."

"Yeah, I can see that."

Loki's pasta continued to sit on the end of his fork.

"You know most people skewer pasta, right? That's why forks are the norm for pasta. Otherwise, we'd just use spoons. And I swear to god, if you tell me that spoons are better for pasta–"

"Tony," Loki said. "I said I am fine."

Tony held up his hands. "Alright, alright, you're fine."

"I am thinking and that is all," Loki said. "Some of us become quieter the more we think."

"Yeah, I've never understood that. Rambling does wonders for the brain. Sometimes you've just gotta let your mouth do the thinking for you."

"Your mouth might," Loki grumbled.

"Talking out loud kind of forces you to have only one train of thought at once. Makes life a hell of a lot easier than trying to keep track of all of them."

"And thus the mystery is solved."

Tony smirked. "You say that like it's an insult."

"I did imply you speak too much."

"Yeah, but you also implied it's because otherwise I'd think too much."

"I said no such thing."

"And thus is the nature of an implication," Tony said in a poor imitation of Loki's voice.

"If you mean to mock me, may I recommend doing so in such a way so I do not have to guess who it is you are attempting to impersonate? Otherwise, your lacklustre impression serves to humiliate yourself more so than me."

Tony shrugged. "You think that'll humiliate me? Boy, you should see some of the pictures the press have of me."

"I dread to imagine."

"Or the voice recordings. Or the videos. Or the– You know what? Maybe I should leave it at I have way worse and way more public incidents. A bad impression isn't gonna make the cut."

"Perhaps I made the mistake of underestimating how much competition there would be."

Tony flashed a smile. "Rookie mistake. And can I make a comment? I'm gonna make a comment anyway. You're clearly on the lookout for some good old-fashioned verbal sparring, a trade of insults, a battle of the wits." Tony waved a hand. "Whatever you want to call it. Point is – you're particularly spiky today. Let me guess, arguing with Thor wasn't satisfying enough? He's a good guy but his comebacks aren't exactly imaginative. So – lucky you – you get to trade insults with me. Is it weird I'm finding this fun? I mean, we haven't even started on the returns yet but I guess this might be the only time a member of the human race could actually benefit from your sibling drama."

Tony was closer to the truth than he knew. Impossibly – no, improbably – making a stab in the dark and just happening to hit something remarkably close to accuracy.

Sibling drama indeed, even if she was Thor’s sister. Perhaps she would have been Loki’s too if Hela hadn’t been residing in Helheim for only the Norns knew how long.

Tony's amusement faltered when he registered Loki's flicker of hesitation.

"What's up? Thor beat you to the punch again?"

"Hardly," Loki scoffed.

"Then what is it?"

"It's...personal."

Odd that _personal_ was the word Loki had chosen. Hela was no relation of Loki's and yet... What was this – some compulsion ingrained in his system to protect the Allfather's secrets? That would be ridiculous. The Allfather deserved no such thing.

Tony looked as if he had been wanting to say something else but then what left his mouth was, "Alright."

Loki hadn't been expecting it to be that easy.

"I learn fast,” Tony said. “And prying into the business of Norse Gods doesn't usually end up well for me." Tony left a moment's pause. "In fact, it usually ends up with a god's hand wrapped around my throat."

"Does that mean I am not the only one?"

"Yeah. Thor did. It was– It was after Ultron broke out."

"I would have thought Thor would have learnt it is a common tactic of the enemy to separate the team that opposes them after the lesson I taught him."

Tony's fingers absentmindedly rubbed his neck.

"Thor was right to blame me, I was the one who–"

"The day you heed Thor's judgement," Loki said, "is the day that you fall into complete idiocy. My brother's intelligence can wildly swing from being able to give the illusion of being vaguely acceptable to wildly incompetent without warning."

"It was years ago. Besides, Thor kind of had a point. Straight to the source and all that."

"Allow me to put this into perspective," Loki said. "Even _I_ have not harmed you while we have been allies. Not even when you alerted the Jotuns to our presence because you were dithering about whether or not you believed me, tempting though it might have been."

Tony was quiet.

"It didn't hurt that bad. I just kind of forgot it happened."

"Thor should have known better than to inflict the same damage on Midgardians as he would have done Asgardians. Even his Asgardian allies would not brush aside a slight like that so lightly."

Tony shrugged and opened his mouth, about to retort. Then before any words left his mouth he averted the topic. "You know how I was trying to make the Time Gem shoot out a fast-forward beam?"

Loki allowed the diversion; it allowed him to settle his debt to Tony for not riling him with further questions about what it was he was so preoccupied with. "I recall it well."

"Well, guess what?"

"You've succeeded?"

"Uh – no. Well, sort of. It can fast–forward but it uh... It tends to burn a hole through stuff at the same time."

"Hardly ideal."

"That's what I thought."

"So what did you do?"

"Adjusted the beam shooter thing – I've really gotta work on a name for it. And after that, stuff got a little less singed. But it varies. It doesn't matter what I adjust or what variable I change, I can't get it consistent. I can't figure out what I'm doing wrong. Is this an Infinity Stone mood thing? I am gonna have to take it to the park if I want it to play nice?"

Loki laughed at the image it conjured.

"No," Loki said. "It sounds as if it not the gem's mood that is affecting the outcome but yours."

"Mine?"

"The gem channels its power through you, does it not? Despite you having built yourself multiple devices now, I doubt anyone else would be able to wield them. Your inventions have serviced as your means of connecting with the gem, of you discovering how to connect with the Time Gem through them. What you do not realise is that _you_ are also a variable. The Time Gem may be warming to you and you are sending signals that you desire more power, therefore it grants even more to you."

"... Huh."

"Just as you are having to assess the Time Gem, the Time Gem also needs to assess you." Loki glanced sideways at Tony. "I suspect your device works perfectly. The problem is more likely to be the Time Gem not knowing what it is you want."

"That... That actually might make a lot of sense."

Loki grinned. "Power like this does not flow in only one direction."

"Does this mean I get to enrol in more Gem Theory classes?"

"I suppose I would accept your application."

***

"Thor," Loki asked.

"Yes, Loki?"

Loki did not mention Hela. Another time perhaps, a time when Thor could afford distractions. And if Loki got his way, perhaps a time when Loki could orchestrate events to make himself seem oblivious to her.

"It's about that ship you promised me."

"Are you referring to the one I'll commission if Father is alive and well again?"

"That's the one." Loki put on a show of a smile. "I was hoping to make a certain amendment."

"The deal we made is the deal that we shall keep."

"As you may suspect by now, a trip to visit this Collector character is going to be necessary," Loki said and Thor did not look impressed. "I believe he may be an essential component in our quest to rid the universe of Thanos."

"Whatever you are trying to get at, Loki, we made a deal."

"And if The Collector has the Aether, which we have good reason to suspect he does, then he may be useful. If not," Loki said, "then that will most likely be useful information to know as if he does not have it then Thanos probably does."

"I still do not see why–"

"We need a ship," Loki interrupted.

"Not until Father–"

"People could die if we wait until Father is well again – do you really want that on your conscience?"

"Not if you null your clause about waiting. If you do that then I shall commission your ship."

"You know why I can't do that, Thor. Try to see the large picture here. This could have an impact on the entire universe, why should Father–"

"You would have to wait regardless for the ship to be crafted, would you not? In the meantime, Father could be found and healed without–"

"And afterwards, when he searches for me?"

"You know that he hid the fact that worlds outside of the Nine exist. If you were to go there, how could he send Asgardians after you?"

Loki still did not like it.

"The ship does not have to be elaborate. We only need to be able to travel across space."

"You know there is a reason we prefer Bifrost travel over flying through space. Asgard has not been known for its ships and most of the realms didn't have a reason to continue building them once they had access to the Bifrost."

"Yes," Loki said, "but there is a realm that has created ships designed to travel through space: Midgard. If a handful of them were to collaborate with Asgardian shipwrights then–"

"Then ask them yourself, Loki."

"You know why I cannot do that."

"I will not go back on my word."

"Even when–"

"That is final."

Loki stared at him, a combination of shock and indignance. "You are going back on your word by not agreeing to help us when you claimed you would."

_"Now_ you want my help? Before, when you scorned any attempt of mine to reach you?"

Loki rolled his eyes, then dropped all pretences, letting his hands fall and his face open.

"Yes."

"Can you guarantee this trip will help you against Thanos?"

Loki met his eyes. "Yes."

Thor shook his head. "That's not the truth."

Loki was taken aback. "You're learning."

"Yes," Thor said. "I've had to. Which is why I'm saying let me retrieve Father now and then I will help you."

Loki shook his head. "You're not listening. You're still not listening."

"Actually, I was listening closely. And I do not understand why you want to involve Asgard at all – the airships are designed to traverse from realm to realm, not over vast distances across space. I think," Thor stated, "that the best way I can help is by asking you a question: why are you asking _me_ for a ship when surely you have other sources?"

***

"Tony," Loki said.

"Mmm?"

"You do realise that if we intend to travel through space, we're going to need some sort of vessel."

"Our own little Starship Enterprise."

"The name can be negotiated."

"Why do I get the feeling that’s you being generous?"

"I suppose if you are making it, then it would only be fair to allow you to have a hand in naming it as well."

"Er – what was that about making it?"

"You are a highly skilled craftsman and metal worker with a large number of resources available to you and you hail from a planet where space-travel has been in use for decades."

Tony blinked. "You want me to build it. You think that I can build it. A spaceship."

Loki frowned. "I thought that much was obvious."

Tony blinked again. Then he laughed and grinned widely. "Wow. Can I just say what a nice change it is to be overestimated instead of underestimated? You think I can build a _spaceship_. I mean, if I had a few years then yeah, I probably could. But I'd need an entire team of people, I'd need actual astrophysicists and people who genuinely know what they're doing, I'd need so many test-flights I get sick of hearing about them, I’d need... Hell, I'd need to do a ton of research. And even if I’d manage to accomplish it after all that, we're still talking _years_ here."

"... Oh."

“Why? You found us a route to Knowhere yet?”

Loki had not been so lucky.

“No. I thought it might have been more efficient to put plans into place for us to have a way to get there in the meantime while I search.”

“Even if I was to go wild and buy off NASA or something, it’d still take us years to get from one planet to the next. And that’s from _this_ solar system. Never mind how many galaxies away Knowhere might be.”

“Unfortunate.”

“So – got a Plan B?”

“Fortunately, yes,” Loki said. “If we cannot commission a ship or build a ship, then we have no option left but to acquire one.”

Tony's eyes were positively alight. "I'm listening."


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Added a tag for psychological manipulation since Loki actually thinks about what happened in the void for more than a fleeting moment in this chapter. Anyway, hope you enjoy. It's Tony and Loki. In space. Sort of. We're getting there.

"So, uh... Where exactly are we gonna commandeer a ship from?" Tony asked.

Loki forced his fingers to stop fidgeting.

He’d had little desire to think of the legions of planets which he’d never known had existed. He’d done his best to banish the memories from his mind of everything that had happened after he fell for a good reason. Loki had discovered the only realisation worse than believing he would be falling through an empty void for eternity was realising that the void was not in fact empty after all.

Thanos’s fleet had travelled through the cosmos like a swarm of locust, descending upon unsuspecting worlds and devouring their resources and people. Sometimes the fleet only took what they needed; sometimes weapons, sometimes materials and means of transportation, sometimes threads of information Thanos was chasing. Other times the worlds would be less fortunate and their favoured peoples and true-hearted warriors would be granted as gifts to the Lady Hela. Those warriors were the lucky ones; it was the ones who were judged not true of heart and spirit who were the unfortunate ones. Thanos would take those warriors for himself. They would become Thanos’s initiates.

Together the initiates trained under the watchful eye of The Other.

The Other was ruthless, without mercy. The Other did not allow mistakes in the arena and he filtered the best from the worst by pitting the initiates against one another until only those who could survive were left. The training was gruelling and no time was allocated for resting or healing. They fought again and again and again until Loki no longer felt the ache of his muscles and injuries and the only options left were kill or be killed.

Loki had been good at surviving – until he wanted to die, that was. But in a strange twist of fate, Loki failing to die when he had let go of the Bifrost and fell into the clutches of Thanos and The Other had reawakened a primal desire to _live_. Because he had wanted to die, but not like this. Not while being forced to war and battle like he was some sort of slave, nothing more than another creature in a colony of insects.

Then they had the attention of Thanos. Thanos did not make them fight. Thanos did so much as lay a finger on them. But Thanos was worse, so much worse.

Loki sometimes felt as if he only won his contests on the days or nights he was so exhausted he could barely move because of his burning hatred for The Other. His fantasies of revenge served as fuel but he knew The Other was safe while he was still of use to Thanos.

The other initiates could not be trusted. Loki was unable to tell which had truly turned to Thanos’s cause, which ones made a facade of it, and which ones would turn him over out of fear.

Thanos was worse because the resentment that had armoured Loki against The Other did not exist with him. Thanos penetrated his way through with his value for Loki’s intelligence, for his litheness and resourcefulness and deceitfulness. Thanos spoke of how useful Loki and the few remaining initiates would be, how they could redeem their unworthy souls by helping him with his one task, how glorious it would be when Hela finally accepted the hand of Thanos.

Thanos was a madman but there were days when Loki did not know what was real anymore and he was so immersed in his own deceptions that he had almost convinced himself that he too believed. There were days when Thanos was so lucid and calculating it made Loki wonder whether Thanos was right. Perhaps everything would be better if Thanos succeeded in his quest to impress Hela because then at least Loki would finally be rid of it what was in store for him. But the sheer amount of death and destruction the price would come at was one that made even Loki baulk.

There was nowhere Loki was safe, nowhere he could escape to, not while he was kept on that ship. It went on and on, Thanos giving grand speeches and beginning to give the initiates more and more tasks to fulfil for him, each time growing larger and larger in scale and magnitude. For his final test, Thanos touched them with the Soul Stone once more. One of them he asked to find the Time Stone, another the Reality Stone, another the Power Stone, and Loki the Space Stone. But Loki was special. Loki got a gift: the sceptre. But the sceptre was closer to a curse than a gift. The sceptre was the reason The Other could call upon him without a moment’s notice. The sceptre was the reason he could not allow his act to falter for a second. The sceptre was the thing that kept him linked like a mockery of a family tree with Loki connected to The Other, The Other connected to Thanos, and Thanos allowing the power to flow down the branches.

But Loki did not wish to dwell of any of that. He had flung the memories as far as he could into the dark corners of his mind for a reason. But he needed to retrieve that information now, he needed to recall the name of one of the planets they had landed on during the initiation process.  

The planet had an abundant supply of ships, though Loki could not vouch for the quality of them. Because even Thanos, with all of his power and might, needed something to fuel his fleet with. They had sought out a source not quite in the far reaches of the galaxy, but one where there would be little the planet could do once they became aware that they were having their resources taken. If Loki couldn’t even recall its name, he could hardly expect the Tesseract to be able to teleport them.

“Er… Loki?”

Loki’s head snapped towards the sound.

_Just Tony,_ Loki reminded himself. _Just Tony._

Tony was looking at him in such a way that Loki was hit with the fear that Tony had seen too much.

"Taradaxia," Loki said. It took conscious effort for his voice to be level.

“What?”

“It’s where we will acquire a ship.”

Tony eyed him for a long moment then averted his gaze. “Alright. What the hell is Taradaxia?"

“It’s a planet whose primary function is to serve as a fuel export.”

“Space-Walmart-gas-station doesn’t sound like one of the Nine Realms.”

“It’s not,” Loki said.

“Then how are we getting there?”

Loki summoned the Tesseract to hand as an answer.

“It's funny – I never thought of you as the kind of guy to hang around pit-stops."

Loki pressed his lips together for a moment. He had no desire to disclose the details of what happened after he had fallen into the void so instead he said, "It wasn't for myself. It was for...an acquaintance of mine."

"What sort of passport stamp do you get for the space-truckstop planet?"

Loki could have thanked the Norns for how easily Tony went off at tangents. "I assure you, the universe is not so organised to have a such a system in place to monitor travellers."

"The universe is a big place. Guess bureaucracy's got its limits."

"You Midgardians take bureaucracy far past the limits of what it should be."

"Why do you think I’m no longer CEO? Even when I employed other people to do the paperwork for me there was still way too much of it.”

“Of course,” Loki said dryly. “I should have known it was paperwork and not anything to do with any slightly more exciting vocational activities.”

Tony smirked. “Do you mean skiing? Because that was one time and I almost broke my leg.”

“You know exactly what I meant.”

“Wait a second – you know what skiing is?”

“Quite honestly, I am surprised that the sport has retained its popularity for so long.”

“If you can’t fly, I guess it’d be pretty fun. It’s kind of hard to remember – it was college and I wasn’t sober for any of that trip.”

“That appears to be a recurring theme with your stories.”

“Constant binge drinking is what happens when you spend years trying to drown out the guilt of never telling your mom how much you actually give a shit.”

Loki did not know how to respond to that. His thoughts wavered to Frigga and then back again. But how could Tony have said it so flippantly? It was clear it still ate away at him but to take such a vulnerability – such a _weakness_ – and then transform it into something to transparent, something that was practically an outright invitation for others to laugh – that was not something Loki could understand. He supposed, on some abstract level, that there was a strategy there. By inviting others to laugh and by initiating the mockery himself, Tony had practically ensured that no one else would. Loki’s instinct would have to conceal it, to hide it, but instead of doing that, Tony made the weakness itself into a mask that he wore for others to see.

For half a moment, Loki wondered if there were other vulnerabilities hidden underneath that mask of vulnerability.

“What about you?” Tony asked.

“What?”

And then to Loki’s relief, Tony said, “Ever been skiing?”

“No,” Loki replied. “Have you ever stolen a ship before?”

“Nope. I don't exactly have much experience hotwiring spaceships. So unless that's a hidden talent of yours..."

"The engines should need no reworking, rest assured. I have a plan."

"You know what's great? At least one of us does. Go on then. Let's hear it."

"Taradaxia is the main fuel export for that particular pocket of the universe," Loki said. "As I recall, they have a large number of cargo ships to transport said fuel from their planet to others."

"Right. Cargo. Does that mean they'll be better defended though?"

"We need not worry about their defence if we are convincing enough."

"What exactly is that supposed to mean? Are you talking elaborate heist plan or dressing up as them and hoping for the best? And now I come to think of it – how exactly are we getting out? Because I'm guessing no matter how fast their ships are, it'd still take a hell of a long time to fly back to Earth in one."

Loki smirked. "I do have the Tesseract within my possession and, as I recall, it responded rather well to creating a portal when it was combined with your–"

"You want me to hook up the Tesseract to one of my arc reactors. And you're _consulting_ me this time. Smart move." Tony grinned. "I can't wait to see the headlines when I land a spaceship on my roof."

"I admit, this method will hardly be inconspicuous but–"

"I'm Tony Stark. When have I ever been inconspicuous? This suits me just fine. So long as we don't end up with a bunch of angry aliens on our tail."

"Yes, that would not be ideal."

“How long do you need to prepare before we–”

"I see little point in waiting. I have not been able to find anything relating to Knowhere in Odin's vaults. I am sure it exists but I could be searching for _months_."

Tony's smile faltered. "We're heading off that quickly then?"

"Is there a problem?" Loki asked. "I have said that I am perfectly capable of going without you."

"I'd rather not lose my teammate halfway across the universe if it all goes to shit."

"So if it does go that badly you would rather us both be doomed, is that the way of it?"

"Well, yeah. Unless we figure out a way of communicating from across the universe. Because at least then we'll be able to figure something out between us."

"Such as us mutually coming to terms with our inevitable demise, for instance?"

"Maybe. Well. Hopefully not. I'm a realist, not a pessimist. But my point is if we're separated and it goes south, the odds of one person making it are lower if they've gone solo."

"But the odds of the member of the party who previously would not have been in any danger surviving are larger."

"Alright, alright – I mean I'm still right but you're not wrong either. Anyway, I need to fess up: the kid inside me would really really like to steal a spaceship. I’ve had a bunch of names thrown at me but pirate isn’t one."

"I'm not denying you," Loki said.

"Oh." Tony looked surprised. "So you're not trying to persuade me not to join you on a space-romp."

"I was warning you."

"Then consider me warned. I'm gonna start packing. Don't wanna forget my towel."

"We should only be gone a matter of hours, there's hardly any need for–"

"Yeah, but this is _us._ We get the bad rolls of the dice a hell of a lot. So I'm preparing for engine breakdowns, hand to hand combat, high-speed chases – the works. And this is _space._ I'm not coming back without souvenirs this time."

“Then given your taste in souvenirs, I suppose no small object that could potentially kill you on Taradaxia will be safe.”

***

Loki had no such need to pack belongings; all of his essentials he stored in his interdimensional pocket. He remained in the seating area trying to solidify his plan and every so often Tony would return with a different model of his armour or technology – sometimes the armour would send itself rather than Tony having to do it.

Loki heard a noise – not the sound of Tony walking and not metallic sounding enough to belong to his one of his various suits.

It was the distinctive clopping of high heeled shoes that gave her away.

“Miss Potts,” Loki said before he turned to locate the origin of the noise.

Pepper was brought to a halt when she caught sight of the sheer number of belongings cluttering up the space.

“What’s going on?”.

“Ah,” Loki said. “We are having to prepare for a voyage.”

“Why’s Tony taking _that_ many suits? Give it to me straight: how bad is it going to get?”

Loki was able to be perfectly honest in his reply. “Is it not as dangerous as it may appear. Tony is being overcautious.”

_“Tony? Overcautious?_ ”

Loki had to smile at least a little bit. “Believe me, I understand the sentiment.”

“Do you? Because if _Tony’s_ worried about something then you should _definitely_ be worried about something.”

“I am not often accused of being reckless or rash.”

Pepper’s gaze was level. “What are you up to?”

Loki thought it best to be frank. “We’re stealing a ship.”

“A ship? Why? What ship can’t Tony buy?”

“A ship that can fly through space at a reasonable enough speed.” Loki’s smile grew as her jaw fell open. “I do believe you requested that I tell you the next time I intend to take Tony somewhere off this planet.”

“What? But–”

“The risks are low. The inhabitants of the planet are not known to be hostile.” Although they must have made better preparations regarding their planets safety after Thanos’s intervention.

Pepper was able to meet Loki’s eyes unflinchingly. “Are you absolutely certain?”

“My skillset happens to be perfectly suited for this sort of scheme and I have a device that allows me to teleport us at a moment’s notice. The risks are minimal.”

Pepper analysed his face, then gave a nod. She looked to Tony’s armour. “Then you do know what that’s about, don’t you?”

“Of course,” Loki said, though he had a sinking feeling he knew nothing of the sort.

Pepper was not so easily fooled. “It’s not for me to tell you if Tony hasn’t told you. But I need you to promise me you’ll look out for him. _Especially_ if you’re going to be flying through space.”

“I’m not entirely certain who you believe you are talking to–”

“Please?” she said and Loki received the impression she was not in the habit of begging. “It could get...messy.”

“Not if it goes according to plan.”

“Not like that. I don’t mean physically.”

Loki let out a laugh when her meaning became clear. “I’m hardly known for my benevolence.”

Pepper pulled a face. “I’m not asking you to be his support blanket, okay? I know who I’m dealing with. And I don’t just mean you. I need you to promise me you’ll be there. He just needs someone there sometimes. Especially if...”

“If _what?_ Despite popular opinion, I’m not going to send my partner out of an air-hatch if they happen to slightly inconvenience me,” Loki snapped and Pepper blinked at him. “What? Are you really that surprised?”

“I don’t think you get it. I don’t think you get it at all.”

“You must be truly desperate,” Loki sneered, “to ask me of all people to–”

“Of course I’m desperate! Tony’s barely been back and now he’s disappearing again! And not just on vacation – across _space!_ And you have absolutely _no idea_ what that could do to him.” Loki stared at her in bewilderment. Why was she so fixated on the prospect of space? Tony had been fine with them hopping from realm to realm and Loki failed to see why them navigating beyond the Nine Realms would be so different. “Just…” Pepper visibly steadied herself. “Just don’t underestimate it, okay?”

Loki was spared having to answer by Tony making his reentrance and dumping a suspiciously red metallic briefcase on the floor.

“Hey, Pep. Didn’t expect to see you today.”

“Tony,” Pepper replied, her voice clipped.

“Uh-oh.”

“Tony – why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well I didn’t know myself we were leaving until like an hour ago.”

“...Oh.”

“Should probably give you a heads up – there might be a whole lot of PR about my roof. I’ll deal with it later. It’ll be all on me, not Stark Industries.”

“Tony…”

“And we should only be gone a couple hours.”

“Wait – is that it?”

Tony shrugged. “Apparently. According to our heist manager over here.”

“Okay,” Pepper said.

“Okay?”

“Just… Be safe.”

“I’ll make it back. We’ll make it back. Always do.”

She put on a show of sternness. “You better do.”

Tony turned to Loki. “Right. Uh… Can most of this stuff fit in your really handy magic pocket hole? Because there’s no way I’m gonna be able to carry all of it.”

Loki rolled his eyes only the minimal amount. “It does have limitations, you are aware.”

“What’s my baggage limit?"

Loki motioned to approximately a quarter of the pile.

“Still more than I normally get to take with me.” Tony shrugged. “Guess we should be off then.”

“One more thing, before we do,” Loki said. He made a motion with one hand and the illusions were in place over both his and Tony’s skin. “To ensure we do not stand out.”

***

They appeared in the centre of a narrow back road.

Good. It was deserted.

Loki had forgotten how grey Taradaxia was. He'd had far more pressing concerns on his last visit, namely the small troop Thanos had wanted him to lead in from another direction. Even when it came to matters that did not require it in the slightest, Thanos was a strategist through and through.

The entirety of the land mass was a sea of concrete and the air was so thick with pollutants that it made seeing into the distance impossible. Land and air vehicles provided dim lights that filtered through the fog and underneath it all was an underlying stench of fuel. The smog enveloped them like a thick blanket, the thickness of it sticking to their skin and cloaking them so heavily that it almost felt like a solid. Loki tried to console himself with the reminder that it would make their task considerably easier.

"I’ve gotta say, I’m not digging the whole gas station leak smell," Tony said.

"I did not promise that other planets would be more desirable than your own."

Tony pulled a face. "You're saying the whole planet's like this? I just thought we teleported to a rough part of the neighbourhood. Yeesh, I don’t remember this type of disappointment happening on Doctor Who. Does Taradaxia have a Tripadvisor page? Because I wouldn’t give this anything above two stars so far."

Loki’s lips quirked in a wry smile. “How the universe must quake in fear you voicing your opinions.”

“On one hand, this is _space_ – _”_ Tony caught the look Loki gave him and amended himself. “I mean, _more_ of space. Outside our galaxy kind of space. So yeah – that’s pretty out there. In fact, you could say _space_ is pretty out there. And on the other hand, there’s _this_. It looks like the whole planet took an architecture lesson from a prison and was told to make it _less_ imaginative. Where’s the elegance in the design? This planet looks closer to Earth than the moon does.”

“Whether or not you believe otherwise, we are here for a specific reason other than leisurely travel.”

“Alright, alright. Point taken. Lead the way because A: I don’t know where we’re going, and B: I can’t see shit.”

“Keep your voice down and follow my lead.”

From what remnants of memory Loki had been able to piece together, it was not a long journey to the airship dock. He would have teleported directly there except that there would have been a considerably higher risk of them being decteded if he did so.

They crossed at sections of roads and had to double-track multiple times until Loki was more certain of the direction they should have been heading in, gradually moving towards the edge of the city. Loki had been so focused on where they were heading to that it startled him out of his wits when he realised he had failed to notice a figure close to passing them – and he had only noticed it because his eyes had detected movement rather than it drawing attention to itself. However much it might have startled Loki, it was nothing compared to how much Loki and Tony startled it in return.

The thing’s eyes largened to around four times the original size and it let out an unintelligible shriek, scuttling backwards at the sight of them.

Loki stared at it in confusion, a humanoid creature with scaled skin and set of tusks sticking up through the bridge of its nose. Its scales were a dull beige that matched the concrete and it wasn’t until then that Loki realised two things.

The first was that the creatures Loki and Tony were disguised as were not in fact Taradaxian, meaning that Loki and Tony stood out slightly more than they had anticipated. And the second was that there were more of the creatures. They were camouflaged so well that the edges of them practically blended into the concrete and the ones that weren’t in motion remained perfectly still, poised like lizards.

“Wonderful,” Loki muttered, flicking his fingers and vanishing himself and Tony from sight.  

How could he have been so _stupid?_ He had been so certain that Taradaxia had been the planet with the humanoid feathered creatures instead of the one with the scaled creatures or the one with the walking plants or the transparent amorphous blobs. There had been so many species and races Loki had seen, so many who fell to Thanos or bent to his will.

Even with the stench of fuel in the air, Loki was now only fairly certain that this was the planet there were supposed to be on.

Loki grabbed at the empty space where he thought Tony’s wrist should have been and ended up grasping at Tony’s upper arm instead. Loki corrected himself and tugged – it wouldn’t do for himself and Tony to get separated due to being invisible to each other.

Loki steered them both slowly, unwilling to give away their exact whereabouts to the Taradaxians who were staring with slitted eyes at where they had last been seen.

One of the Taradaxians stuck out its forked tongue – was that to hunt for their scent in the air? – and that was when Loki decided an escape with more speed might be necessary, pulling harder at Tony’s wrist and picking up the pace.

Loki winced at Tony’s audible footstep and one of the Taradaxians must have detected it too because it snapped its head in their direction.

Loki froze, fingers pressing hard against the metal of Tony’s armour.

The creature’s face started contorting, its mouth opening wider and wider and there was something coming out of it, something bright and red and–

Was that light?

It threw its head back, its mouth contorting larger than its head and the light shining out of it dazzling, even if it was directed upward towards the sky. One by one, the others joined it, acting as if on cue and thrusting out the light with the same force as Thor calling lightning.

Something rumbled overhead in the distance and Loki took that as their cue to leave, breaking into a run. They rounded corners and ventured through gaps between buildings, skirting around the Taradaxians on the streets until they came to a secluded area behind what looked to be a warehouse.

Loki glanced back at the lights that were still visible through the fog, shining through from red to yellow. None of the reptilians appeared to have followed.

Loki dropped Tony’s wrist and the invisibility.

“You do know my suit can detect you, right?” Tony asked. “You still show up on the thermal imaging.”

Loki cursed himself for making yet another oversight and forgetting. “I thought it would be more practical in case I would need to teleport us away.”

Tony allowed that, inclining his head slightly. "It's funny, it's almost like us aliens showing up out of nowhere alarmed them.”

“Then what were those lights? What sort of defence would those act as? They weren’t even directed at us.” Loki said and shortly after the words left his mouth he received his response.

It was difficult to make out the precise shape through the filter of pollution but whatever it was was large and bulky and was definitely flying low.

“You think it’s after us?”

“Probably,” Loki said. The thing in the sky moved closer towards the red lights. “Most definitely,” Loki amended.

"We don't exactly blend in here."

As if an afterthought, Loki draped illusions of Taradaxians – true Taradaxians this time – over their forms.

“Okay,” Tony said, “mild improvement. But I’ve gotta say, that thing I’m beginning to think is a police-ship probably isn’t an improvement. You didn’t mention the security was that uptight.”

“It wasn’t last time.” Or maybe the Taradaxians had seen few reasons to bother raising an alarm when they were being invaded with nothing they could do to stop it.

“So now we’re all caught up and systems updated and everything – is it a good idea to stick around? They’ve got to be on high alert by now and we could come back any time, it’s not like it’s difficult. I’d recommend not coming back looking like cosplays of The Raven next time though.”

Loki gave it a brief moment of consideration. “Would you believe me if I told you we could work this to our advantage?”

“Would I want to? Yes. I’ll have to hear you first before–” Tony’s words were cut off by a loud blaring of a siren.

“Before something like that happens?”

“Yeah. That would’ve been nice.”


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a little disclaimer: scientific accuracy isn't exactly my strong suit, which'll probably become apparent - if not in this chapter then in some later chapter.

“A little faster, if you don’t mind,” Loki said over his shoulder.

Tony picked up his speed, falling in line with Loki’s pace instead of lagging slightly behind. They were balancing the fine line between trying to get to the port as quickly as possible while simultaneously trying to not attract attention and two figures hurrying from the industrial estate – although, arguably almost the entirety of Taradaxia was little more than an industrial estate – would probably do exactly that.

The siren still had not stopped and the low-flying ship that had appeared with the noise was slowly circuiting its way outwards, apparently having finished examining the area where the glow of Taradaxian light still remained.

“Wouldn’t we better blending in?” Tony asked.

Loki cast Tony a doubtful look. “I believe it didn’t escape your attention that this is precisely what these illusions are for.”

“Yeah – I know by plain sight we’ll look like the lizard people. But if they’ve got scanning tech then odds are we might get red-flagged.”

That gave Loki pause for thought. “I must admit, I know little of scanning technology beside the ones I was introduced to on Midgard.”

“If it’s anything similar to the stuff we’ve got, they’ve probably got heat sensors, motion sensors, facial recognition…”

“That could be a problem.”

“Assuming their tech’s as fallible as standard Earth-tech – discounting my own exclusive scanning tech, obviously – then we’re not as screwed. They’d be scanning from above so that means if they see the two of us out here, they're probably gonna spot something's off pretty quickly. But if we're in the middle of a crowd..."

“Then our individual readings will be indistinguishable from the rest of the Taradaxians,” Loki finished, abruptly changing their route to travel in a direction towards what he assumed would lead to a main road. His suspicions were confirmed by the growing number of roadside establishments, many of them less fine than others. There were rowdy gambling dens, hostels that looked as if they were used to their guests signing in but not out – and those were only the buildings they could see inside of. The concrete was cracked and chipped, the environment a wash of a grey homogenous texture whose only variance was the state of decay it was in.

They passed a small number of Taradaxians, their blank unblinking eyes giving no indication to their thoughts. Some of them travelled with a confident swaying of their tails, others with more skittish movements that betrayed their nervousness. The miniature horse-sized flying vehicles that passed above them did not linger.

“Looks like we hit downtown,” Tony muttered. “So which way is up?”

“The trouble with that assumption,” Loki said, “is that it implies there are more pleasant areas on this planet.”

“Aren’t there? The entire planet can’t just be a downtown. Down-planet?”

“I would call that overly optimistic.”

“Alright – it’s not Kensington Palace Gardens but that doesn’t mean there can’t be nicer parts.”

“The more I see of this planet the less I am inclined to associate any positive adjectives with it.”

Tony gave an eye roll, one that looked very odd on his illusionary Taradaxian counterpart. Loki was only able to discern whether or not Tony was truly exasperated when Tony joked, “Amending for my snobby ET then – areas that are less worse than others. Better?”

“That statement I might be able to agree with,” Loki said, dropping his voice now that there was more than the occasional passerby.

“I vote for that way,” Tony said when they came to a cross-section, pointing to the right where the streets were more noticeably more congested with pedestrians. “And don’t worry,” Tony added, “I lived in New York. You get the hang of walking through crowds without coming into unwanted contact pretty quickly."

“A noble art though it undeniably is,” Loki replied, taking the turn to the right, “it is not entirely necessary.”

Tony shot Loki a quizzical look.

“The Tesseract,” Loki prompted.

“Almost forgot about that little convenient lending service deal you’ve got going on.”

So long as Loki’s concentration did not falter, that was, as Loki had discovered when the elderly Asgardian scholar had inadvertently caused him to realise.

As it turned out, the only difference the new area had from the previous was that interspersed along in the midst of all the gambling dens were trading dens.

“What do you think they bet on? Chips? Fuel shares? What’s the currency around here?”

“I’ve hardly had time to indulge a research of their culture,” Loki said.

“Well – yeah, obviously. We were kind of busy with avoiding the flying reptile-police.” Tony dodged a nearby salesman trying to present him with a tray of samples of insects and chattering away in a language of clacks and low sounds and hisses. _Of course,_ Loki realised, _we’re out of reach of the Bifrost_. “But _you_ ,” Tony continued once he was safely out of distance of the salesman, “have been here before, right?”

Loki misliked the direction Tony was steering the conversation in. “Mm,” Loki said instead of elaborating.

“Well you can’t have come here for the food.”

Loki took a sudden turn on to a side street, hoping to use it as a distraction.

Tony did not falter. “So what gives? You clearly didn’t come here for the view either. It’s not exactly a tourist hotspot.”

Loki pressed his lips together and when Tony gave him a curious passing glance Loki only said, “We needed fuel.”

“Why does something about the way you said that make me think you didn’t ask nicely?”

Loki found some dark humour in that, humour that felt like choking on the pollution in the air.

“Because we have met before,” Loki answered before Tony could make yet another comment about the disaster that had been Loki’s invasion on Midgard.

“So you and your pal did what exactly? Tour the universe together? Sounds like one hell of a long date.”

“Something like that,” Loki agreed flatly.

“I mean, at least it’s fairly original – I’ll give it that. More interesting than dining at a restaurant, that’s for sure. More fun too, I’d bet.”

“Mm.”

“What happened to your guy’s ship anyway?”

“Ships,” Loki corrected without thinking.

Tony raised his eyebrows. “Oh he’s that high up, is he?”

Loki stopped in his tracks. “I don’t recall ever mentioning him being a _he_.”

“Well you've just confirmed it.” Tony took one glance at Loki’s face. “Oh. Take it it didn’t end well then.”

Loki would have been glad for the mask he wore, for the alien face that wouldn’t betray him as easily as his real one could. Except that apparently it had. Loki’s jaw muscle clenched as he fought to convey nothing more than passive disinterest and resumed walking, taking another turn the end of the road.

The street was busier, cluttered with Taradaxians and traders and merchants, but Tony was still waiting for an answer, Loki could feel his gaze on him even as he avoided looking in his direction.

“No,” Loki confirmed, wishing with his uttermost being that Tony would leave the topic well alone before–

“Too bad,” Tony said. “He could’ve really helped us out–”

_“Enough!”_

“Uh…”

Too late, Loki noticed the surrounding Taradaxians were staring – not in alarm but in confusion. Loki had spoken too loudly and in a language that was not known to their ears. Loki tensed, waiting for them to open their mouths and attract another ship with their strange signalling lights or for them to somehow see through their disguises.

Tony’s eyes shifted left and right and then he made the most hesitant clacking sound that had ever reached Loki’s ears and Loki was suddenly hit with certainty that that would be the end of their trip to Taradaxia, that there would be nothing for it but to leave and have to return another time. But then the Taradaxians began to move on, many still giving Loki and Tony lingering stares, but moving on nonetheless.

They moved in silence until it was once again safe to speak and then once it was safe enough to speak again neither of them said anything.

It was Tony who eventually broke the silence, scratching underneath his nose before speaking. “You could’ve just...asked me not to ask. You know that, right?”

Loki’s mouth felt dry.

“Anyway,” Tony continued, “at least the clicking actually worked.”

Loki managed to find his voice again. “You could have been saying _anything_.”

“Better to risk them thinking I’m rude or weird or just speaking gibberish than what’d be an actual alien language to them.”

“I suppose.”

“Right. So…” Tony threw a glance above them. “Good news is there don’t seem to be any space-cops on our tail.”

“And the bad news is?”

“The bad news is I still don’t see how we’re supposed to work this to our advantage. Someone or something up there is actively looking for us. Doesn’t seem like a good day to steal a ship from my point of view. They’re already on guard.”

“Tony?” Loki asked.

“What?”

“Have I ever asked you to trust me before?”

“Nope. Think I’d remember that.”

“Then I’m asking you now,” Loki said.

“I have one condition.”

Loki was beyond sick of hearing of conditions and terms and it was for that reason that Loki’s only response was to make a disparaging noise.

“I think I’ve found the gas station of gas stations,” Tony said.

“I beg your pardon?”

Tony pointed at a building on the street corner with small flying vehicles lowering into the open roof. “Even here, they’ve gotta get gas from somewhere. And,” Tony added, nodding at the enclosed section of the building, “it’s got a convenience store attached.”

Loki almost groaned out loud. “Your souvenir.”

“Uh – yeah. Where better to than somewhere local?”

“Tony – of all the reckless ridiculous things to risk exposing ourselves for that _don’t_ happen to be a ship, a souvenir is hardly a worthwhile one of them.”

***

Loki was still not entirely certain how exactly it had happened as they left the building, but they had somehow managed to leave, miraculously unscathed and without attention having been drawn to them.

Loki believed it had started when Tony had said something along the lines of considering it as a prerequisite to the actual stealing. And then they were inside the shop and Tony had been drawn to a display of a selection of maps, talking in an excited whisper about how perfect the maps would be because he’d be able to bring home some form of a replica of an alien planet. _Utter madness,_ Loki had thought at the time. And his opinion had changed little since. It was a weak justification to think that humouring Tony would benefit them in the long run, given how verbal Tony could be and how any further protests might have resulted in drawing more attention to themselves – but in all honesty, Tony was unlikely to throw such a tantrum. Tony’s request had been in the name of innocuous fun and Loki could not say why he had compiled against all better reason. _Madness,_ Loki thought again.

The stealing of the maps was simple enough; Loki’s illusions could have made him a master thief a long time ago if he had had such inclinations.  

It wasn’t until they were once again walking the streets that Loki forgot the madness and realised that maps normally have a very practical use.

“Are the docks marked on the map?” Loki asked.

Tony came to a stop. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that. Duh. Maps being used to find your way around – who’d have thought? It’s not like it’s their intended purpose or anything. I can’t believe I was too distracted by the thought of having something nice for my shelf I _forgot_ what maps are used for. Maybe this is what they mean when they say geniuses don’t have common sense.”

“I must admit, I would have been far more willing to steal a map if I had realised it could actually be of use.”

Tony let out a small snort. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

“Done.”

“Sweet.” Tony brought out one of the maps, unfolding some of its pages. “What the–” Tony waved the map at Loki, giving him a glimpse of an ocean of labelled dots. “This isn’t a map of Taradaxia. This looks like a map of...a galaxy? Which is cool but not helpful. Right. Don’t panic, I’ve got another. Might actually be a map of where we are. How was I supposed to know? I can’t read these funny lines and squiggles. Anyway…” Tony brought out the second map he had taken. “Now we’re talking. This is definitely...land.”

Loki leant closer to analyse the map, trying to make sense of the blocks of colour and the strange symbols and lettering he did not recognise.

“You know what?” Tony asked. “Better idea: I’m phoning a friend. Friday? Help us out here. Any chance of correlating the map with where we are?”

“Yes, actually,” Friday said and from there it only took a small amount of guesswork – trying to pinpoint their exact location on the map and figuring out which block represented the dock – which did not take long, it was the largest structure on the map – before they were able to resume their journey.

As luck would have it, they were not too far a walk from the dock now that they had passed through the busiest of the city centre. As luck would not have it, the sound of the siren and noise of the airship were both getting louder and being halfway to the docks, they were no longer surrounded by as many citizens.

“Well,” Tony said, glancing upwards at the sky and at the shadow that might have been the ship, “I think now might be a good time to do whatever you were planning to do.”

“Yes, I came to the same conclusion myself.”

Loki flicked his fingers and an image of one of the feathered creatures he had mistakenly thought inhabited the planet reappeared, ambling down an adjacent street in the opposite direction.

Tony watched it leave. “How’s that gonna help if the scanners won’t see it?”

“Oh, it won’t attract the attention of the ship,” Loki said. “Not initially, anyway.” He waited a moment for Tony to realise for himself.

“Oh right – it’ll attract the attention the citizens and they’ll send up their light flare things and–” And just as the words left Tony’s mouth, light erupted from the mouth of the nearest Taradaxian. Loki cast his illusion a final farewell glance over his shoulder as he allowed it to continue making its journey.

“I guess if they’re searching for something, we might as well give them something to follow.”

“Precisely.”

***

The walls that surrounded the dock were higher than the walls of the rest of the city, stretching further than he could see, and Loki was surprised to note that there were no longer guards patrolling the top of them as there had been on his last visit. The building was perhaps the most typically Taradaxian building in the city: dirty beige thick imposing walls that looked as if they had never been cleaned, large solid unwelcoming doors to one of the front buildings, and some sort of machinery placed in the entrance whose primary purpose looked as if to deter passersby away. The noise was perhaps worse than the sight, the roar of engines emitting from somewhere behind the walls making it almost impossible to hear each other speak. The sound grew louder and louder until a colossal hulking airship rose from behind the walls, large enough to block out what little light filtered through before it passed above them.

Tony craned his neck to watch it leave. “That’s uh...big.”

Loki could not disagree with the statement. It had looked like a small mass of land rising into the sky.

“How much smaller do they get?” Tony asked.

“Based on what I recall,” Loki said, distinctly aware that his ability to recall had proven to be not entirely accurate, “not much.”

Tony stared. “Wait. You mean we’re stealing one _that_ size? I thought we were trying to avoid drawing attention–”

“The only supply of ships we have are here,” Loki cut in. “And besides, the large size will work in our favour.”

“So when we inevitably get swarmed by space pirates at some point because they think we’ve got a fat stash of gold or whatever works as treasure in space, we can just...hope they won’t notice the massive arena-sized spaceship?”

“Firstly, you are forgetting that I am an illusionist,” Loki said. “And secondly, the large size will allow us to remain undetected on the ship for far longer.”

“Speaking of being on the ship – how are we getting there exactly?”

“I was planning to walk.”

"Going all invisible man doesn’t sound like a good plan. Look at that building front – you won’t be able to step a foot through there without some security worker sniffing you or something scanning you.”

“I hadn’t finished,” Loki said. “I was going to say walk and fly.”

“Fly?” A light of realisation shone in Tony’s eyes. “You mean with a suit?”

“You did bring a great many spares.”

Tony scratched the back of his neck. “Um – about that… There aren’t exactly many people I–” Tony cut himself off. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. See those things up there?” Tony pointed to a number of thin metal poles that were placed at even intervals on top of the walls. “I’m taking an educated guess they’ve also got some form of scanning technology in them. I guess they don’t want anyone swooping down and stealing their stuff.” Loki supposed that the Taradaxians must have indeed learned after the last time and that it would explain why there were no longer guards stationed on top of the walls – they were replaced with something far more effective. “I bet the ships will have something that’ll tag them so they can pass through but anything else going through would have to trigger their security systems.”

Loki abandoned his previous plan and thumbed his lower lip. “...What about the walls themselves?”

“If my theories right  – if the scanners are basically a lid over the compound that could shoot on sight – then it’d only be the top of the walls you’d have to worry about. I’m guessing they’d detect motion or heat or something but…” Tony gave Loki a second glance, “that’s not what you asked. The actual walls themselves… I can’t see why they’d bother or how they’d place scanning tech _through_ the walls.”

“Then we go through the walls.”

Tony’s stare questioned Loki’s sanity. “And you said _I_ was mad. I thought blowing stuff up wouldn’t fit in with sneaking around and generally trying not to attract attention.

“That’s because I do not plan to have to resort to blasting our way through.”

“Then how–?”

“I trust you brought a spare arc reactor.”

“Yeah,” Tony confirmed and Loki waited for the moment when the realisation would hit. There – Tony’s mouth fell open and he regarded Loki with utter disbelief. “That’s… Are you actually…?” Tony broke out into peals of untamed laughter and Loki regarded him, uncertain if he was being subject to mockery. “Oh my god– That’s– That’s _insane_.” Tony’s laughter subsided and there was something about the way the crinkles in his face formed around his eyes and mouth that said approval. “And also brilliant.”

Loki could feel himself beginning to smirk and had neither the motivation nor the ability to restrain it. “I rather thought so myself. Providing that it works, of course.”

***

Before the Tesseract’s intervening, it would not have possible for Loki’s illusions to have concealed it in such a way, not when it was such a volatile and unpredictable force with a life of its own and power that could penetrate straight through his illusions. But with the aid of the Tesseract, considerably more was made possible.

Loki and Tony approached as quietly as possible, fully aware that unless there were any scanning technologies they were unaware of outside the vicinity of the walls, noise would be the most likely thing to give them away.

“Alright,” Tony said, “this arc reactor is essentially one of the spare batteries I’ve been carrying around for my suits in case I need them. You just plug it in and it just kind of completes the circuit. Which means that instant you touch both of these things here,” Tony said, pointing to two barely visible prongs of metal on the back of the arc reactor, “the power will start running through you.”

Loki could not help but internally huff that Selvig did not have to resort to such a thing back on Midgard, but then Selvig had had more time. “That does not sound pleasant.”

Tony shrugged every so slightly stiffly. “It’s not so bad. It’s kind of hard to describe. It’s not like you get zapped with an electric shock or anything, it just feels...wrong. Or maybe that was just because a chunk of metal was lodged in my sternum. Kind of hard to differentiate the two.”

Loki recalled his own scar, the circular shape from the wound Kurse had inflicted and gave a small nod. “If you would,” Loki requested, holding out a hand for the arc reactor. Tony deposited it in his hand and Loki placed the fingers of his left hand precisely where Tony had pointed and drew out the Tesseract with his right.

The illusion on the other side of the wall was already in place.

Loki’s palms tingled as he summoned his focus, then the tingling sensation grew to a warmth and as he concentrated that warmth grew to a temperature that became just shy of uncomfortable. He traced a circle in the wall with his eyes over and over again to distract himself from the possibility of pain, from thoughts of the portal from his attack on Midgard.

And then it appeared, a circle no larger than the door, its edges osculating like waves. They were able to see through the gap that had tunnelled through the few feet of wall, Loki’s illusion of concrete draped like a veil on the other side the only thing preventing them from seeing through to the inside of the dock.

“It worked,” Loki breathed, letting out a startled noise that did not sound all that far off a laugh of disbelief.

“Just out of curiosity,” Tony said, taking one step closer, “what happened to the middle of the wall?”

Loki grinned. “I thought I’d pay my brother a gift in kind for refusing to commission us a working ship in ample time.”

Tony stared. Then blinked. Then burst into laughter, having to muffle his mouth to avoid too much of the sound escaping. “Can you– Can you imagine the look on Thor’s face?”

“Can I imagine the precise expression on Thor’s face while he sits the throne and a cross-section of dry concrete wall inexplicably appears in front of him in court, you mean? Yes,” Loki said with relish, “I absolutely can.”

“You know there’s only one downside to that plan, right?”

“And what’s that?”

“We don’t get to witness it.”

“That is something of a shame,” Loki agreed. “I suppose our imagination will have to serve.”

“Yeah, I don’t think either of us are lacking in that department,” Tony said with a grin and if Loki had been smirking just ever so slightly before, he made no effort to stop it growing now.

They took a step toward the portal.

“Well,” Tony said, “worst comes to the worst – we teleport out.”

Loki nodded, feeling some of his previous humour diminish as they got closer to the other side. “Let it be said that now will not be the time for straying.” And then he vanished them both and stepped through the veil.  

***

It had been a stroke of good fortune that the security of the dock outside of the main and most likely only entrance was maintained by the barrier that acted as a ceiling; it meant that once they were inside the only means of detection would be if one of the Taradaxians was to notice them rather than any technology.

The difficult part would not be penetrating the dock – as they had proven – the difficult part would be boarding a ship and continuing to remain undetected.  

It was only as Loki stepped through the illusion of the wall that he could truly appreciate how utterly huge the interior of the dock was, the walls stretching too far and wide in both directions to see the end of them and several ships of approximately a similar size to the one that passed over them occupying the space on the ground.  

Tony too appeared to be taken aback – or at least, that was how Loki interpreted Tony’s silence.

Loki had considered appearing as Taradaxian to eliminate the problem that invisibility presented while travelling with a partner but the benefits of invisibility outweighed the disadvantages – the workers might have had specific uniforms or a strict procedure to follow or something as simple as their faces being unrecognisable was likely to present issues.

Loki was not overly fond of Tony knowing exactly where he stood and the same not being true in reverse.

If Loki focused intently enough, he could feel the pull of the Time Gem on the Tesseract, the vein of curiosity and something akin to kinship stretched between them, a sensation that served as an indication to Tony’s proximity.

It was only now that they were inside the walls that they could see some form of weaponry stationed below the rods Tony had identified as scanners, large bulky machines with some form of nozzles at the end of each one.

“Wonder what they do about the pigeons,” Tony muttered to himself, having glanced at the same machines.

“Presumably, they would not have a kind fate.”

Loki’s attention was diverted by a flurry of movement from the workers moving between the front building and one of the ships that was stationed close to it. It was only as Loki looked more closely that he picked up on the rest of the workers, some coming in and out of other stationary ships, others disappearing in and out of the front building, a few signalling to each other with handheld flags.

Something stirred by Loki’s arm.

“So…” Tony murmured. “Pick a ship?”

Right. That was their entire purpose of being here. Loki nodded. Whichever ship he'd choose, he'd have to make the decision quickly. There was only a narrow window of time between this moment and the commotion of the next vessel taking off and the longer they lingered, the more likely it was that something would go wrong. Loki misliked leaving the choosing of the ship to chance. What if he chose a ship that was too difficult to overpower? What if he chose a ship that they would not be able to operate themselves? What if he chose a ship ill-prepared for journeying to Knowhere, wherever that ended up being?

The priority, Loki decided, would be to overpower the ship as quickly as possible. Which meant choosing one with less security and subsequently one transporting fewer valuables. But how was he supposed to tell them apart? If he chose the shabbiest looking ship, there may be a possibility of having to repair it and if he chose the smallest ship he could find – not that any of them were small by any definition – there would be fewer places to hide and there hardly seemed much difference between the remaining ships anyway and–

"Fuck it," Tony muttered, grabbing Loki’s wrist and pulling him towards the nearest ship with an open door. Loki would have been relieved for the opportunity to blame Tony if that particular ship was a poor choice if not for the Taradaxian who happened to be standing inside of the door, only just coming into view as they rounded the corner.

Loki yanked his arm in a different direction and then he was the one pulling Tony towards the next ship.

Its doors, the nearest pair situated at the top of a ramp, were closed and the ship seemed deserted, no workers in sight. It was only as they approached it that they could make out a seam in the metal that ran parallel to the edge of the underside. Loki led them in a race up the ramp and came face to face with the frame that marked the outline of a door only to discover that there were no handles or other discernible methods of opening it.

“Tony?”

Something pushed past Loki and he could hear the light taps of Tony’s hands examining the door.

“Shit.”

“What is it?”

“There’s a tiny receiver thing over here but I don’t know what it’s for. Some sort of keycard? Retina scan? Fingerprints? Do these guys even have fingerprints? Anyway – point is, we’re not getting in. Maybe if I had enough time then _maybe_ I’d be able to see if their coding’s similar enough to ours and trick it somehow or hack into it but...”

“We don’t have time,” Loki said. Already, the stream of workers heading into one of the ships farther ahead was thinning, each one holding up an object too small for him to be able to identify that was checked over by a worker at the entrance before being allowed access. Loki thought it a great shame the security worker appeared to have deemed it necessary to hold whatever the identifying objects were as it would have probably given away the fact that something was amiss when their hand passed through the illusion of the object.

“Next?”

The stream of workers was barely a trickle now. The doors to that ship would be closing any moment, and with it closing the opportunity to board it.

An idea struck Loki. “Perhaps not.”

He led them back in the direction they had came from, summoning a walking image of one of the workers he had seen earlier, one who appeared to have the task of directing the others. He made it remain a safe distance away from the previous ship, close enough for it to be easily identifiable but far enough that verbal communication would be out of the question. It gestured frantically with a handheld flag for the Taradaxian at the entrance of the door to join it, an expression of distinct panic spread across its features. The worker hesitated, glancing behind it inside the ship and then Loki made his illusion give a frustrated impatient summon with the flag, making the movement more urgent and commanding. _There._ The Taradaxian had left its post. Loki’s illusion remained ahead of it, moving at a rapid pace before it would eventually disappear behind a ship farther ahead.  

Loki and Tony only just managed to board the ship before the door automatically closed shut behind them.

“Is that it?” Tony whispered from next to him. “Was that all of them?”

“No,” Loki said.

Through the entrance to the ship was a narrow corridor and Loki could see what lay ahead of them.

The interior was a huge chasm, a giant dome of a thing with hundreds and hundreds of spherical instruments lining the circumference, the shape of them and how they glittered in the darkness reminding Loki of frogspawn.

And they were not alone.

There were workers scattered around the ship, busying themselves with various tasks and none remaining still for long. Some of them appeared to be counting the spherical instruments, others checking the readings of metres and testing equipment.

“Are those what I think they are?” Tony asked.

“Are what? I can’t see you, remember?”

“The things I’m guessing aren’t baubles.” _Ah_. The mysterious spherical objects. “Because they sure look like spacepods to me.”

Loki supposed a pod was not as impressive sounding as a ship but thought they still may be worthy of investigation. “Let’s take a closer look, shall we?” So long as they were quiet, they should not run into any trouble unless– “Wait!” Loki hissed. “What of their scanners?"

"Neither me or Friday have picked up anything in here and if they're guarding against being infiltrated, they'll expect it to be from the outside, not the inside. As far as they're concerned, everyone on board is cleared to do their thing so why bother with more security than they need?"

Loki hoped Tony was right.

***

"Right. I guess it's the same case again. Pick a ship, any ship."

Loki waved an arm in frustration. "It's not as if any of the pods have distinguishing features – they're all the same."

"I mean, they all have individual marks I’m assuming are identification numbers written on them but other than that, yeah, they're pretty much identical."

Some were visibly more worn than others, with the company brand Loki could not fathom how to pronounce on the exterior shells faded or obscured by dirt. Each of them was the exact same structure: clear transparent bubble-like formations at the front attached some form of metal cuboid behind it Loki assumed contained fuel.

“You know what?” Tony said. “I wasn’t expecting this to be what would be inside here but it actually makes sense. If they’ve got hundreds of fuel deliveries to make for planets near each other it makes more sense to send a massive ship carrier with loads of tiny ships inside instead of a load of large ships. Or just one ship that has to make loads of stops. It’s actually pretty efficient.”

“I suppose so.”

“It’s kind of like piling a load of delivery guys in a van. You don’t just get the van to drive somewhere, you get it to unleash all the delivery guys where it stops.”

Loki was too busy trying to find his way inside one of the said pods to pay too much mind to Tony’s analogies. Every so often, he would scan his surroundings to double-check they were unlikely to be heard and to keep a tally on the slowly rising number of workers inhabiting the ship.

There was a fumble to his left and then the sound of Tony groaning.

“You’ve _got_ to be kidding me. It’s another identification scanner.”

***

In the end, they had few options remaining.

When Loki had first suggested stealing a ship, he hadn’t quite anticipated how many beings would occupy them. He had initially considered the vessels on board the ship a small blessing that might have uncomplicated matters somewhat until the issue of the identification scanners emerged. But there was a viable solution.

Loki and Tony sat in the shadows by their chosen vehicle, selected on the basis of Tony seeing a vague palm tree shape in the alien lines of its identification number and Loki seeing no logical reason to object.

More workers had entered the ship, ones that did not just appear to be there for some sort of briefing or maintenance, ones who were beginning to enter the pods by scanning something they wore around their wrists.

“Er – Loki?” Tony asked, voice lowered. “Before we go and, you know, grab ourselves a spacepod – do you reckon a pod like this will actually be enough for us?”

“Possibly,” Loki answered. “Probably.”

“What I meant was can they travel as far? Are there certain pressures they can’t withstand? What if they’re only designed for certain atmospheres instead of actual space-travel? How are we supposed to know–”

“By following the other pods,” Loki said. “At least for long enough to determine what they can withstand.”

Tony was silent for a moment. And then, “Called it. I knew this would end up taking longer than a couple hours.”

 

Loki and Tony remained there in silence, waiting for someone to approach their chosen vessel, unwilling to risk speaking now there were significantly more Taradaxians surrounding them. On multiple occasions one or two Taradaxians would approach their pod, looking as if they were heading straight towards it with the intention of boarding it but then they would veer off to one side or another and Loki would be left impatient and with his muscles cramping from crouching in such a position.

And then it happened: two workers got closer and closer and were definitely _definitely_ heading towards their ship, communicating with each other in their strange language of hisses and clicks.

Then Loki struck.

It would have simpler to kill them and certainly less effort on Loki’s part, but Tony had insisted that there wasn't any need. And then when Loki still hadn’t been fully convinced, Tony had argued there was too much risk for noise and that if Loki couldn't think of an alternate solution it would only prove his lack of imagination.

It was for that reason that the two Taxadarians found themselves inexplicably deposited outside of a Dwarven tavern on the opposite side of the universe.

Loki reappeared back on board the ship, two torn wristbands in hand, and projected the stolen image of the Taradaxians over himself and Tony.

“You know what?” Tony said. “If I was suddenly dumped on an alien planet, I think at a bar is the best place to be. Firstly, it’s way nicer than being held hostage, and secondly, they’re pretty universal, everyone knows how they work. Not sure what they’ll pay with but er… We can go back for them. After. If we can find them again.”

Loki released a breath of laughter, his tongue pressing behind his teeth. “I suspect they’ll stand out a little.”


	32. Chapter 32

"It's _small_ ," was the first Loki said when they climbed through the door.

“It’s a _spaceship_ – spacepod – and it’s _ours_.”

Loki looked pointedly from one side of the pod to the other. “Yes. All three armspans of it.”

Even the technology of the dark elves – the race that had supposedly been extinct since Bor’s reign – had been more elegant than that of the Taradaxians. The front end of the pod had a panel curved to match the window it was attached to, the surface of the panel crowded with buttons and steering mechanisms. Behind the control panel were two seats and at the joint where the glass-like material became metal, the walls became lined with hatches and cupboards.  

“I think you’re missing the point here. We have a _spaceship_. Who cares if it’s small and if we’re basically travelling in a space version of a pizza delivery van so long as it works?”

The rest of the pod Loki had found to be equally as unimpressive, the cooking and food storage unit through in the next section being approximately half the size of the control section, and the largest section of the ship fully occupied by tanks of fuel for transporting.

Once they had finished inspecting their spacepod, which, regrettably, did not take long, Loki settled into one of the two chairs behind the control panel. Tony hovered around his chair, always touching it but never quite sitting in it, frequently distracted by reaching for some lever or button or switch. Along the way, he would mutter to himself, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he did it out loud.

“...Gear stick… Accelerator? That’s got to be some kind of communications thing...”

Loki adjusted the seat, allowing himself to lean back with his hands behind his head. If even Thor had managed to figure out how to activate and fly an unfamiliar dark elf ship, he had faith that Tony would manage it far more competently.

Tony was too wrapped up in attempting to decipher the foreign buttons and mechanisms to notice Loki’s lack of assistance, busy familiarising himself with all of the various keys and miscellaneous appendages of the control panel.  

The ship had hummed to life some time ago, the vibrations of the engines causing the floor to have a slight tickle.

The wait for the large carrier ship to take off was tedious. For what felt like hours, they watched as more and more workers bustled to and fro. In the meantime, they had a near mishap when a Taradaxian of a higher authority opened their door and said something in an utterly incomprehensible language but apparently the only response it required was a nod and it pressed something on one of its devices.

"Register," Tony said by way of explanation when the alien had left. "I think. Guess we’re close to the take-off."

He must have been correct because not much time had passed before, one after the other, various different engines and mechanisms began firing up in a chain reaction that got louder and louder as it progressed. What had only been minor vibrations became more and more violent and there was a sudden blast and then the vibrations were no more.

Loki sat up straight in his seat.

The ship had taken flight, Loki realised. If he was able to see out of the carrier ship he would have been able to watch as Taradaxia disappeared beneath them. Some part of him slightly regretted not being able to wish it good riddance before he realised the lack of windows in the carrier ship would shield him from having to bear witness to everything around him slowly becoming darker and darker.

There had been a time when the view of the edges of Asgard had been one of his favourite sights but that had been a very long time ago.

They had flown so high that Loki could no longer tell if they were moving or not and it was a far smoother glide than what he would have suspected such a large bulky ship to be capable of. Even so, Loki’s fingers were gripping the underside of his seat with what must have been a considerable amount of pressure, given how the metal started to give way beneath his fingertips.

Neither of them spoke and despite the continuous roaring of the engines, the air in the pod felt too silent, too still.

Loki refused to think about what lay outside the walls of the ship but his intent only brought it to the forefront of his mind. It wasn’t until that moment he realised he had been anticipating Tony fulfilling the role of distracting him from his own thoughts as he so often inadvertently did – except for when Loki needed him to, it would seem.

Loki searched for something to say, anything to keep thoughts of the void at bay.

“Do you believe you’ll be able to pilot it?” Loki asked. He was immediately aware of its redundancy as a question, how he already knew Tony had identified the majority of the controls – or at least the essential ones – long ago.

Tony nodded, eyes fixated on the window as if he could see beyond the walls of the carrier ship.

“...Good,” Loki said when Tony did not elaborate.

The cushioning of the chair felt too solid already, Loki was certain he could feel the metal frame pressing against his thighs and back but no matter how he repositioned himself he still felt it, those hard lumps jutting against his bones.

Loki forced himself to release his grip on the chair – if he was not careful Tony would notice. Or alternatively, Loki would break the chair. If was a choice between the two, he would rather fly through space indefinitely seated on a chair that did not even remotely resemble anything intact rather than face the former option.

It took only a glance at Tony to come to the conclusion that his worries of Tony noticing his behaviour were unnecessary; Tony’s eyes had not moved off the window. Those eyes were not merely observing, they were filled with something that looked like some bastard brother of focus, like if he stared with enough intensity something would catch fire. But there was something else too, something that Loki was hesitant to name that lurked beneath the surface, something that might even be–

Loki’s thoughts were knocked askew by the sudden jolt of the ship. Its walls rattled, sending Loki’s hands back to gripping the chair. Tony inhaled a sharp breath, reaching out on reflex to clutch the thing he had previously identified as a gear stick. The walls shook again but Loki was prepared this time, collected enough to recognise it as what it was: little more than minor disturbances brought about by changes in the air.

As abruptly as it had started, it stopped.

“You’re not required to pilot just yet,” Loki reminded Tony, half to ease the tension and half out of desperance for something even remotely resembling a shred of humour.

Tony looked at his own hands as if they were foreign to him and released the gear stick. There was a light sheen to his skin that was not usually present and he had yet to utter a single word since the ship had taken flight.

“Tony?”

Tony jolted as if Loki had unexpectedly bellowed his name.

“I’m–” Tony started. “I’m just gonna check out the…” Whatever the last word had been, Loki failed to catch it. Tony motioned with a finger behind the door before disappearing through it.  

Loki watched him leave, left with a certainty that this behaviour must have been what Pepper had been referring to. Loki had seen it: the fear, the raw instinct for survival, but he could not place why it had taken root in Tony.

Tony had neither a fear of heights – how could he when he was perfectly content to soar the skies in his armour? – or a fear of travelling to other worlds. The only difference Loki was distinctly aware of was that this time they would have to travel through space rather than teleporting and–

Was it the reflection of the void Loki had seen in Tony’s eyes? Or was him only seeing his own fear projected back at him?

The answer should not have mattered. It was nothing Loki should have concerned himself with, nothing he should pry into, not unless… Not unless Tony was unable to pilot the pod.

Loki examined the control panel, his fingers tracing over the thick buttons and levers. _Thor managed to fly a dark elf ship without prior experience_ , Loki reminded himself, almost repelled by how petulant his own thoughts sounded. And if Thor had then surely Loki could too if need be.

For half a heartbeat, Loki considered walking through the metal door, the echo of Pepper’s request to _just be there_ echoing from his memory – though whatever she had meant by that he was not certain.

But the more Loki stared at the door, the more resolved he became. If he had been on the other side of it, if his own body had betrayed him in such a way that left him so fragile, then it was infinitely easier with no one to bear witness to it.

In an unanticipated turn of events, the speculation provided an excellent distraction. All he had to do was to keep wondering and not let a moment’s silence cause his mind to lapse during the brief time in which it was not occupied.

By the time Tony returned, Loki had only managed to identify only a fraction of the pieces of the control panel that Tony had, and even then, few of them with certainty.

“You would _not believe_ the size of the bathroom we have,” Tony said as if nothing unusual had occurred, the words leaving his mouth in rapid succession. “I have to tuck my elbows in just to get in. I’m starting to get cabin fever just by thinking about it. But on the plus side, we’ve got a shower. I didn’t know to expect that. Wonder what their water processor is like? Where do you think it's hidden? Did we miss it in the back or something? Gotta be glad they’ve figured out how to fly without zero gravity. When I take a piss I prefer it to actually go where I want it to – the other way sounds messy. Do you reckon they recycle water on these things? Don’t worry – I haven’t actually tested that out so nothing’s potentially contaminated or anything. I–”

“You don’t need to disclose the details of…those kinds of activities.”

Tony returned to his chair. “Sure, there are plenty of things I don’t _need_ to share. But you get them for free. Why – you think this is oversharing?” Tony let out a slightly off-pitch laugh. “Trust me, this isn’t oversharing. Or maybe I just have lower standards than you. Or now that I come to think of it, maybe your’s are just impossibly high. Because sometimes I don’t think you’re even familiar with the concept of oversharing. You go around claiming to be all god-like and you think you do a great job of not looking like a wounded puppy whenever someone mentions your family or your–”

“Are you _quite_ finished?”

“But it’s not just you. Thor swings from terrifyingly powerful holy shit he’s actually a Norse god stepped right out legend to a giant labrador so much I’m basically starting to think of him as the stormier version of Clifford the Big Red Dog. And yeah, Thor’s cape colour is completely appropriate.”

Loki allowed a moment to pass. “Tony?”

Tony spread his arms wide, his eyes lacking the spark of enthusiasm that the gesture required, even if the gesture was only used ironically. “Here in the flesh.”

“Are you certain you’ll be able to pilot?”

Self-doubt did not suit Tony. “Probably.”

Loki nodded ahead of them. “Because I believe something is happening.”

A strange dim glow of light was filtering in through a fissure that had appeared in the underside of the ship and for a moment Loki was certain there must have been some crack in the ship that was allowing the light to enter. Then the fissure grew larger and larger and Loki realised it wasn’t a crack at all: it was the seams of the ship opening.

The full view of what lay outside the walls of the ship was directly in front of them. There were stars, so many countless stars, and the light of the nearest sun reflecting off the surface of a world not all that far from where the ship was drifting to a stop.  

Then Loki could breathe again, the tension having dissolved from his body. For one moment, he had been convinced he would be forced to stare into the fathomless depths of the void again but there was no complete darkness to be found. Instead there was a view that was not all that dissimilar to Asgard’s, a view of stars and nebulae and other worlds, a sight that was a feast of colour and light.

Some of the pods closest to the mouth of the ship were stirring, rising from their stations and reminding Loki of bees exiting a hive.

Tony was utterly still.

Then the pods began to fly out of the mouth in a uniformed order, row by row, until it was almost their turn to leave.

Tony made the slightest of movements, his fingers hoving over the gear stick. Loki did not comment on the tremor.

Then the pod in front of them began to move and both of them were faced with the inevitability that it was their turn.

“Here goes,” Tony said, a slight quaver in his voice. He pulled a lever and the engine of the pod began to thrum with life. Then Tony pressed something a key and it rose steadily for a few feet, all the signs that had been so promising marred by the dreadful grinding sound that accompanied it.

“Er…” Tony hurriedly pressed a few more buttons, one causing something wet to squirt at the screen, another making a light illuminate the interior of the cabin.

They were late – their delay was out of synchrony with the other pods, and the other workers would surely have noticed by now.

Tony’s hands moved the wheel, and then they surged forward, the noise eradicated.

Their flight was not in any way gentle. Rather than flying in a smooth line, they veered from side to side haphazardly and failed to remain at a constant height. Then they began swerving downwards, the wall of the ship directly in their path.

“Tony! The–”

“On it.” Tony had already moved to twist one arm over the other in order to reach behind him to yank on a lever.

There was an audible change in the pod’s engine but the wall of the ship remained very much ahead of them, the proximity of it getting closer and closer–

“Tony?”

Tony stomped on a pedal Loki had not been aware was there and there was an abrupt lurch before they were back on course with barely any time to allow them to process that they had left the mouth of the ship.

Loki’s stomach began churning again and he couldn’t reason why. He had walked the Bifrost again, he had watched as the water fell off the edge of his world – he had faced worse than this. There were lights and stars and thousands of visible objects that differentiated and distinguished this from the void and yet…

Loki wanted to curse himself for being foolish enough to believe his fears had left him, for believing that he was strong enough to remain unfazed by the prospect of flying through space. The pod gave a sudden jerk that broke his thoughts and then they were in line with following the trail of a string of pods ahead of them, the ones far ahead at the head of the line beginning to descend towards the closest planet.

Loki hadn't realised he'd stopped breathing. It was only when he started taking in breaths again that the fear of Tony seeing him, a god, in such a state brought on by something so mundane started to take its roots. Tony's eyes flicked to his for the briefest of instances and Loki saw his own terror reflected in them. Loki tensed, ready to face an onslaught of mockery but none came – although whether that was from a lack of a desire to or lack of an ability to, Loki could not determine for certain. Tony was not cruel but he could be brusque. But for the moment, Tony did not appear capable of being either.

Tony's weight was on the control panel, his eyes wide and his breath coming out faster and faster.

Some of the pods just in front of them were beginning to branch off to different corners of the planet, others farther out into space.

They had a decision to make, perhaps one that they would not be _able_ to make for themselves given their difficulty flying the pod.

“Tell me what to do,” Loki said when it was clear their situation was not improving.

Tony startled, as if he had temporarily forgotten Loki was there. He opened his mouth and then closed it again, unable to take his eyes off the window.

“Portal,” Tony said. “Now.”

***

They made an utter mess of landing on the roof of Stark Tower. Loki was only fairly certain that the pod was not in any way broken, although he could not say the same for the roof.

Loki and Tony remained in their seats for some time even after the ship was no longer moving.

Tony fiddled with the ship’s controls, all inactive now the engine was no longer running.

"I’ve been told I never appreciated a good view," Tony admitted. "And I'm sure it was a fucking spectacular view out there. But I– I don't want to deal with everything else that comes with it. Which is funny because an opportunity like that is a scientist’s _fantasy_ and I should’ve– I should’ve been able to love every second of it. But I…didn’t. And I don't just mean because of your typical existential dread everyone gets from time to time thinking about space.” Tony flicked a switch, up and down, up and down. The more restless Tony became, the stiller Loki got. Loki could not understand what it was Tony wanted from him. Was Tony making a confession? A plea for some sort of resolution? "I can blame you for that." _Me?_ Loki was taken aback. "Well, you and the World's Security Council."

"I don't recall–"

"Yeah, you wouldn't. You were probably too busy being a new addition to my flooring. They sent a _nuke_ , Loki. They sent a nuke right at the city all because of those little friends you were inviting over."

Loki could not reply for a moment. "They would have killed more of your people than I would have done."

Tony shrugged but the gesture was stiff. "As far as they were concerned, the death toll would’ve been worth saving the rest of us. But they didn’t think past eliminating the threat. So I diverted the new threat to attack the actual target."

Loki's mouth grew dry. "You flew up the portal."

Tony let go of the switch. "Then I fell back out of it."

Loki wondered why Tony was telling him this, why Tony had without being prompted, volunteered to share this information. Was Tony expecting something in return? Did Tony think it would bring him relief to share this information? Or worse – was it advice he sought? Or even worse still – had Tony noticed after all and was now expecting Loki to give up one of his own secrets in exchange?

There was a long silence before Loki hesitantly broke it.

"How long did you fall for?"

"Don't know. Blacked out. Felt like ages and a microsecond all at the same time, you know?"

Loki knew.

"Why did you join me then?" When Tony looked puzzled, Loki rephrased the question. "Why did you knowingly join me on a journey you knew would take place across space if you are so averse to it?"

"Because I want us to win and this maximises our chances. And… Sometimes I think you've going lone wolf for too long."

_Precisely the opposite is true,_ Loki thought, _if Thanos had never found me..._

Loki stiffened in his seat. "Are you _pitying_ me?"

"Pitying? I don’t do pity."

"Then I hope you are not mistaking me for another one of your Midgardian teammates."

"I'm not. This is a partnership, not another team.”

Loki allowed that.

“I don’t play well with others,” Tony said. “Which is exactly what Romanoff told me right before the Avengers happened and look how well that turned out. Bruce went awol, Steve didn’t think I deserved to know who killed my parents, Nat stayed on my side just long enough to help the other side win, Clint hates my guts, Wanda – who I was trying to protect from _herself_ – acted like I was keeping her in a prison, one of my teammates ended up accidentally paralysing another one, and then even after the fight was over, Vision still decided to join them. Not for sides, just because he got closer to Wanda than I anticipated. So, yeah – I’m done with teams. I’d prefer to trust someone to stab me in the back rather than being taken by surprise – at least then you know what you’re getting.”

“Is that what I am? Someone you can trust to stab you in the back?” Loki couldn’t understand why the prospect of it bothered him somehow, why Tony’s assessment of his character should have had even the slightest effect on him.

Tony was quiet for a moment, considering his words before answering, “I don’t know what you are.” He let out a single chuckle. “But I’d prefer it if you don’t stab me, front or back.”

Loki felt the barest traces of a smile. “I suppose that isn’t an unreasonable request.”

“I figure I’ll be fine. At least until we’ve dealt with Thanos problem. And then after that… I was meaning to talk to you about that at some point actually. Might as well be now.”

“Oh?” Loki had given little thought to the after, had seen little beyond their mission because success had seemed so unthinkable.

“Yeah – about what happens after. Because let’s go all out and say if this works – if we actually end up being able to travel through time and win – then what?”

“Concerned I’ll stab you?”

“A bit. I mean, I don’t think you don’t find me as annoying as you used to, but it’s hard to tell with you sometimes. No – what I’m more worried about is what happens if we end up with time-travel at our disposal indefinitely. Because that could be...dangerous. You don’t seem like you’re interested in crowning yourself the king of a planet any time soon but you’ve got bigger problems right now. And I don’t know what’ll happen if those problems are taken away and you end up with free time on your hands again.”

If Loki was being entirely honest, neither did he. It was strange to think of their mission as having an end, of the possibility of them actually _succeeding_. “Then what are you proposing?”

“A truce. After.”

“You do realise that a truce would require you to trust my word?”

“Well I’m not gonna have anything else once this is over. I’ve got nothing else left to bargain with. Except that I’m not going to let you go back in time when this thing is done on the off chance you go over to the dark side again.”

Loki bristled. “Is that truly necessary?”

“Hope not. But I’d be stupid to take any chances.”

“What do you want then?”

“I’d like to remain unharmed. Oh – and a lift back home when this is all over would be nice. That’s...all, actually.”

“Done.” Loki was not going to remind Tony that he appeared to have forgotten about the Tesseract.

Tony blinked at him. “Seriously? Just like that?”

“There’s no need to sound so surprised.”

“Tell you what, I’ll even throw in an extra something for you if you keep your planet invading to a minimum. Ever fancied a pair of flying boots? AI in your helmet? Hell, I’ll even invent custom designed shampoo if you want.”

Loki hid a smile. “We’ll see.”

There was a rap at the door, followed by Pepper letting herself inside, barely fitting in the remaining space.

“What time do you call this?” she demanded.

“We’re fine by the way,” Tony said.

“That’s not what I meant to say. What I meant to say was what the hell have you done to your roof? Have you seen it? And…” She trailed off, her eyes on Tony’s face. “Also – are you okay? Sorry. I should've asked that first. I just meant you took longer than a couple of hours. I thought since you told me it wouldn’t take long I might as well stick around and get some work done since I’d only be wondering…” Her expression morphed, becoming something that bordered upon comical, her eyes moving to the control panel. “Oh my god. This is an actual spaceship.”

Tony grinned. “Wanna see my spaceship?”

“It’s not only _yours_ ,” Loki reminded him.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t fit the quote.”

“Sometimes,” Pepper said, her tone a mixture of exasperation and fondness, “I think it’s for the best we broke up.”

***

It was later in the evening, much later, when Loki finally raised tried to raise the question that had been on his mind since they had left their newly acquired ship.

“Tony – are you _certain_ it’s a good idea for you to join me–”

“I meant what I said before. Our odds are better if we’re not separated. And I… I can work through it. It won’t be easy but I can make it through it. There’s too much depending on this to risk not doing it.”

“What about your inventions with the Time Gem?”

“Who says I can’t do both? We can empty the storage fuel from the back and build a mini lab if it comes to it.”

Loki assessed him for a long moment but there were no traces of doubt on Tony’s face. “Very well.”

“We’re gonna have to take it for a few test drives before we start going anywhere far. Okay – I didn’t get that much of a good look at the other pods but some of the chain was definitely breaking off for open space so it’s safe to assume we’ll be able to fly this thing pretty much anywhere. Except maybe underwater.”

“That sounds promising.”

Tony nodded. “I just need to learn how to fly it. Properly this time. Because it isn’t just space that...you know… It’s not being in control. Like with the nuke. I didn’t have time to think my way around it. There wasn’t anything else I could’ve done. I was out of options. And I don’t want to be out of options when we’re up there. I _need_ to be able to think my way out of situations because that’s...that’s what I do. That’s how I’ve survived this long. Am I making sense?”

Loki inclined his head. “Perfect sense.”

“I am? Good. Er… Know anywhere quiet we can take this thing for another test drive?”

***

Loki hadn’t thought he would have voluntarily returned to Svartalfheim again in his lifetime, not after what happened there. It had been both his death and rebirth and it seemed oddly sacrilegious to return there for the purposes of learning to fly a vehicle. Still, being inside of the ship was certainly not the same as walking the black sands and they only remained on the surface of the planet to practice landing and taking flight.

“Can you get that dial up by your head?” Tony asked. “Firsty, you’re taller than me. And secondly, it’s probably not a good idea to play twister while we’re trying to figure out how to pilot this thing.”

Loki pulled it without complaint and some mechanism locked into place that sent them hurtling upwards into the sky at a sudden speed, the clouds beneath them lying like a desert.

“Alright!” Tony grinned. “You wanna take the wheel? I need to investigate more stuff over this end so…”

Loki pressed his fingertips over the surface of the wheel, gave it an ever so slight turn and–

“You’ll have to be more forceful than that,” Tony said, looking up from where he had he crouched in the gap underneath the panelling. “This stuff doesn't know the meaning of subtle gestures.”

Loki pressed more forcefully and it began to respond to him, the pod curving farther skyward in an arc. Loki angled the wheel upwards and they flew higher and higher before he brought them in a swoop that stopped just short of the ground.

Tony stuck his head up above the control panel. “Are you showing off?”

“Only a little.”

“Okay, carry on.”

“Pardon?”

“Carry on – I think I’ve figured out what these things do.” Tony crawled out of the space. “Only one way to find out for sure.” Tony placed his foot over one of the pedals. “Brace yourself.”

“What–”

Tony pressed his foot down. 

Then Loki heard it – the air bellowing around the back chamber of the pod, and everything he had learned about steering the ship was becoming obsolete because the ship was no longer under his control. 

Tony released the pedal and the noise stopped. "In my defence, that's not what I thought it'd do."

"Tony – what–"

"This is the kind of thing they should've marked with a blatant red sign. Or at least have some other warning. Seriously – who designed this thing? How can they manage stuff our own rocket scientists can't while not having a grasp of basic big nope buttons?"

"But why would–"

"I think it was supposed to be some sort of fast release for the carrier fuel. Or it would've been if we hadn't already dealt with it. So we just ended up driving this high up with an open boot."

The rest of their experiments and tests were not nearly so eventful. They found a mechanism that acted as an extra defensive layer to the ship, a button that blared a loud horn, access to some sort of digital screen that unfolded from a flap in the ceiling, and those were only a handful of their findings.

“Is that our navigator?” Loki voiced aloud, examining the screen.

Tony poked its screen but the lettering remained just as unintelligible. After considerably more pokings, the display changed, reverting from an image of clusters of dots that might have represented stars to a slightly displaced and pixelated version of the same image.

“Er – it _was_ our navigator. But I think it’s crashed. Couldn’t deal with us being off-map. I guess it would’ve been a lot more helpful in future if we actually understood their language as well.”

“Perhaps we should have kept the Taradaxians as hostages,” Loki replied, only half serious.

“They’re having a forced vacation.”

“Is that so?”

“Yup. And I need to give landing this thing another try – good job we have a soft landing – and I was thinking we might have to do this the old-fashioned way. Just to make sure that thing is actuallya navigator so I won’t end up wasting my time trying to fix it – can you see if you can make sense of it?”

“I can’t read that screen any more than you can.”

“You don’t need to read: you just need to look. See if there’s a match.” Tony pulled out one of the maps he had taken from Taradaxia.

Loki unfolded the pages, then turned it over in search of a key or indicator or at least _something_ he could as a starting point when something odd struck him. There, on the other side, in a miniature section bordering the perimeter of the map, he could read some lettering. It was only an uneven scattering of words in some far away galaxy, but they were _legible_. How was that…

“Tony?”

“Found something? That was quick.”

“I need you to read this.”

“Why? You wanna how to pronounce a drawing of a triangle with an X through it?”

“I need to determine whether this has a root in Allspeak or whether it is something else entirely.”

That piqued Tony’s curiosity. Tony learnt closer, leaning over his shoulder, and read aloud, “Xandar.”

Loki snatched the map back, the possibilities racing through his mind. Loki didn’t know why it hadn’t occurred to him sooner, why he had assumed that Odin had stopped with conquering the Nine Realms. Because if there were traces of translatable Allspeak in the distant reaches of the galaxy, then it had to originate from _somewhere_ , surely. _Unless,_ Loki thought, _it was the other way around._ There was no way to be certain.

Loki’s eyes jumped between the words, more and more pronounceable ones making themselves known. Some were named as if by machines, their titles a series of nonsensical numbers and letters, others had shorter names composed with far too few vowels, and then there were the words that were more familiar to him, titles like ‘Sovereign’, ‘Oceana’, and ‘Dust Fall’.

And there, sitting in the midst of them, was Knowhere.


	33. Chapter 33

Neither Loki nor Tony had seen much point in stalling – they had acquired a means to find Knowhere and they had a ship in which to get there. Delaying would do little but further their apprehension and make the day they departed closer to the day Odin would be revived.

Unsurprisingly, Loki had little interest in remaining inside of the Nine Realms after Odin would be reunited with the throne.

Running more flight tests and installing the makeshift workshop in the rear section of the ship took only a matter of days. Loki was certain someone somewhere would disapprove of him summoning portals for a task as mundane as transporting objects and he found great satisfaction in continuing to do so, particularly when the more often he did it the easier it became.

Tony’s area of expertise lay with more subtle crafts: ensuring his arc reactor technology would be able to power everything inside the rear section of the ship.

They had as large a supply of food as the ship would allow and only a minute amount of space able to be delegated for other miscellaneous personal items.

Then they were ready. The ship was perched on the roof, all belongings and essential items were already on board, and Tony had bid his goodbyes to Rhodey and Pepper.

The reappearance of the ship, clearly visible from the tops of other towers and skyscrapers, had not gone unnoticed by the citizens of Midgard. It had brought about speculation from multiple news reporting outlets that the reason Tony Stark had made very few public appearances recently was due to him being heavily involved in a space exploration project. All things considered, the rumours had been surprisingly accurate.  

From the angle of their position inside of the ship, it was impossible to see the Midgardians on the streets below in detail – it was only once the ship began to take flight that the angle allowed Loki to see them all beneath him, craning their heads to peer at the flying object in the sky.

Tony handled the controls a certain degree more stiffly than he had during their flight practices and for a moment Loki was left baffled when Tony elected to operate with one hand and in a clear deliberate gesture, stuck his thumb up at the window before returning to using both hands.

Loki expression alone must have given away his thoughts because Tony explained himself without requiring a verbal prompt. “It was for the cameras. My roof’s been trending in the news for the past three days so someonemust've picked it up. I like to think future-me will think it's funny. And I figured I should probably do something so no one thinks I’ve been abducted because if anyone’s noticed you’ve been around, they’d assume the worst.”

“Well, if you had made it clear it was _that_ much of an issue, I would have–”

“It’s not that much of a big deal. And if the Collector is actually an ally of ours, it’ll make zero difference to you because you won’t need to come back to plain old Earth again. So you might as well save your stealth, avoiding detection, and any of your usual roguish talents for when we need them.”

“My skills aren’t in limited supply.” And then, as if they had not already gained enough attention from passersby, Loki opened another portal in the sky of New York.

***

Despite being better prepared than the last time they had ventured into space, the sight of it was no less easy to bear. What _was_ easier to bear, however, was the knowledge that they were able to fly the ship with a reasonable degree of more competence.

“Okay…” Tony said a few seconds after they reappeared in the spot where they had first flown out of the cargo ship. “Space.” He was perfectly still apart from his foot jostling up and down. “We just need to wait for the navigation systems to realise we’re actually in range of...however the hell their navigation works. Clearly, it’s a bit different to sat nav. But apparently just as prone to crashing and wasting everyone’s time.” Tony poked the screen. “C’mon, C’mon... There we go. Something moved. I think. Did you get that? Right there? That pixelated cactus just morphed into a garden fork. Which is good. I never thought I’d think a cactus morphing into a fork would be a good sign of _anything_ but here we are. Wait – am I imagining things? Did that actually happen or have I been staring at it too long?”

“...Yes?”

“Yes I’ve been staring at it too long or yes it did happen?”

“The latter.”

Tony slapped his thighs with his hands. “Always nice to have confirmation I’m not insane. And okay, I’m definitely not imagining things – the whole thing’s clearing up now. Come on, you beautifully ugly piece of– Aha! Gotcha. I knew you’d come through in the end.” Then Tony turned to Loki. “Uh – you did remember the map, right?”

“You insult me.” Loki brought out a copy they had made of the map, one with the route they had planned drawn over the top of it.

"You get why I had to check. It’d be really embarrassing if we had to turn back at this point.” Tony scratched this jaw. “Forgetting the map would be a very me thing to do though, don't you think? Because a spaceship and planets and uh...space itself is a _little_ distracting. I'd be a bit too easy just to overlook packing a piece of paper. One time I managed to overlook the fact that if I – very publically – gave my address to a terrorist, my house actually might’ve ended up under attack. Which it did. With Pepper inside. It’s probably that kind of thing happening again and again which is what led to her saying she couldn’t handle the stress. I mean, _I_ sometimes can’t handle the stress so I don’t see why she should’ve put up with it. I do stupid shit all the time. And I know it’s stupid and one day it might get me killed but that part of me doesn’t seem to have an off switch.” Tony drummed his fingers against the wheel and nodded at the screen. “Is it done? You think it’s finished?”

“It appears to be.”

“Right. That’s my cue. Loki – you happy to do your thing? Because my jaw feels looser than usual and like all these words are gonna start pouring out and I get the feeling you might eject me if I start rambling about my exes for much longer but hey – apparently thinking about that is better than thinking about where I am right now. So if there’s one place I want to be right now, it’s in the room with no windows.”

Loki would not have been opposed to being inside of a room with no windows but he chose to say nothing on the subject. “I will set us on course,” Loki vowed instead, the words feeling almost as unpleasant as the taste of bile in his mouth.

Tony stood up, the movement too fast and abrupt to be fluid. “Thanks. You’ve no idea how much this’ll help me out.” He clapped Loki on the shoulder. “I owe you one.”

Loki was too startled by the unforeseen contact to react before it was over and then when it was over all he said was, “Another one?”

Tony paused by the door to look back. “Yeah. I suppose it is.”

***

Knowing there was an exit, an escape from having to face the blanket of space that was just a few feet away, only made it worse.

Loki refused to be defeated by something only his eyes could see. He would not be cowed by something that did not even have its own mind, something that did not have its own thoughts.

And so he remained, sat in his chair, knees bunched up against his chest, engaging in a staring contest with the universe itself.

Perhaps the worst part was that, by all rationality, it was not space he should have been afraid of – it was its inhabitants. In his mind he knew this and no matter how frequently he reminded himself of it, the fact remained the same: on some level he would rather be staring into what lay underneath the hood of The Other than be confronted by the view of what was in front of him.

Because this was the part that came after.

This was the part that came after the void, the part that came after The Other’s training. This was travelling at the side of the man whose infatuation could put an end to life as the universe knew it. This was the man who excelled in cold strategy and logical reasoning and yet could not deduce that the Goddess of Death considered him with as little importance as an irksome fly. This was the man who spoke of destroying Loki’s home as if it was something he should have been _grateful_ for.

This was a part of himself Loki could defeat – _would_ defeat.

So why was it then, that when he finally felt nothing, did it not feel like a victory?

***

It had taken much time and much more cursing of Friday for not being able to operate the screen before Loki completed the task, aligning the screen with the corresponding section of the map and setting the ship's course in the correct direction. Then at long last, Loki was able to make his way through the sliding doors without berating himself for having to resort to using it as an escape.

The workshop was clustered with tables and benches and equipment that Loki was not able to identify and there was barely any space in which to stand. Materials and metals were strewn over the tabletops and the edges of the room were lined with stacks and stacks of containers.

To proceed into the room, Loki had to squeeze his way between the narrow cracks formed by tables misaligning.

Tony was modifying one of his previous inventions with the mannerisms of someone so utterly lost in their work that it surprised Loki when, without turning around, Tony asked, “What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

Tony gave Loki a cursory glance. “You look sick. Caught a bug or something?”

“No–”

“Been working out then?” Tony resumed his work, enlargening a hologram of one of his designs and rearranging its components.

“In a space _that_ small, I doubt–” Loki realised his mistake and stopped himself, only just coming to realise that his scalp had a certain clamminess and that sweat must have been the reason why. “Believe it or otherwise, I am capable of showering and me having emerged from said shower does not imply that I am ill or otherwise psychologically impaired.”

“Good – had me worried there for a moment,” Tony replied. “How much would it suck if our only navigator came down with the flu?”

And then the wave of nothingness that had come over Loki turned into something hollow, something that scraped ever so slightly at his insides because he would have to sit out there again and again until they reached Knowhere. And there was the envy Loki was so accustomed to, except that this time it was for Tony and how he was safely locked behind windowless walls and all it had taken to grant him that gift was a single conversation Loki could not have.

“We all set then?” Tony asked.

“In theory.”

“Guess that’s the closest we can get for now. So. What brings you down to my humble abode?”

“I would like to remind you that this is _our_ ship.”

Tony picked out a select piece of the hologram with his fingers and tossed it in a digital bin. “And all the stuff in here is _my_ stuff so…”

There were few times in his life that Loki had welcomed such a trivial argument with as much relief before. “If I dispose of a significant amount of my belongings in a room that does not mean I can validly claim the room as my own.”

“Not in the paperwork you can’t. But in people’s minds you can.”

Loki looked pointedly at all of the clutter that had spawned only within such a short period of time. “Is this what you would call psychological warfare then? All this for an attempt to stake your claim–”

“Actually, it’s more of a byproduct instead of an actual attempt to–”

“Of course it is.”

“You bored or something?”

“I thought that once I set us on course it would be more productive for me to be in here rather than doing nothing but–” in his head, Loki privately added the word _avoiding_ “–watching the view.” At least that was a task Friday was able to accomplish, even if she was only capable of observing out of the device Tony had attached to the front window rather than interacting with the ship.

“Then you might as well clear space for a seat. I’m not going anywhere soon.”

Loki shifted some of the smaller boxes of items and claimed his place.

Tony turned his back on his design. “Wanna meet Rizzo?”

“Who?” Then it occurred to Loki that there was a large cage at the side of the room, so well concealed amongst the disorder that it had somehow managed to escape his attention.

“Friday did the shopping a couple days back and got everything we need. That one there–” Tony pointed to one of the creatures inside of it, a rat making use of one of the hammocks, “–is Jingles. There’s probably a Splinter somewhere in there. Don’t look at me like that – rat names are in short supply and I don’t think they’ll be too fussed about having to be named after boys. Hang on – what’s that Disney rat called? Remi. I forgot about Remi. So that’s half of them with names by now. You know what I call this? I call this progress.”

“I assume you did not bring them for recreational purposes.”

“You got that right. I’m not great at keeping pets. Better with robots.”

“I thought you said that humans use guinea pigs as test subjects.”

“Mostly a figure of speech. Mice or rats are more common for testing on in labs. And trust me, these girls will have a hell of a better time here than the lab they were at. We’re not going to intentionally get them hooked on meth for a start.”

Loki watched the creatures resting, sleeping in a pile one on top of the other. “You humans have strange practices.”

“You think that’s just a human thing? Because everything I’ve seen so far on this road trip of ours across the Nine Realms and beyond has pointed to the fact that once a species evolves to be sentient enough, it starts getting weird.”

“There may be some truth to that.”

“You bet there is.”

“And what exactly is the purpose of the rats?”

“Saving the universe.”

Loki paused. “Ah.”

“We’ll be screwed if we accidentally destroy ourselves instead of sending ourselves back in time so…”

“So you mean to test the technology on the rats when the time comes.”

“Yes. And no. I mean to start _now_. I didn’t have enough time to test the reverse-beam on something alive before and I need to know that the thing we’re using it on will actually stay alive and whether it’ll reverse the development of neural pathways and memory. Because if we have to use this or something similar on ourselves to go back in time, I need to know if I’m gonna have to send myself a memo.”

“How do you intend to do that? I suppose an obvious solution would be you training the rats and then testing their learned behaviour once you have reversed their ageing.”

“Exactly. Well, almost. Since you’re in here and you suggested it, you’re practically asking to become my lab assistant anyway. How’s that sound? Better than watching, I bet. And it makes it less weird for you be lurking around here – I’m not used to having an audience while I work. The ship will start making loud angry noises if something starts going wrong or if it sees something incoming Friday doesn’t – so what do you say?”

There it was: a means of escape, a means of a distraction, and an acceptable excuse to remain behind windowless walls all bundled within one offer. He would still have to return to the cabin for navigational purposes but at least he would have reason to be elsewhere the majority of the time. Loki did not answer immediately, instead leaning closer to the cage to inspect the pile of sleeping bodies as if he was trying to make an estimate of how many there were. Five? Six? And then when sufficient time had passed that he would not sound over-eager Loki answered, “Very well.” One of the rats stirred at the sound of the proximity of his voice, squinting blearily at him. “For the purposes of getting closer to being able to travel through time.”

Tony rolled his eyes but the movement lacked any real irritation. “Of course it is. Couldn’t have me think you agreed out of the goodness of your heart now, could you?”

Loki almost smiled. “Certainly not.”

***

What Loki had not quite anticipated was how much of his time would be spent retrieving escaped rats who were far more interested in exploring the workshop than learning from any training he might have had to offer them. It seemed the firmer he was about them not being allowed to leap across from table to table, the more determined they were to do so, taking the opportunity to scurry up shelving and storage containers and use him as some sort of portable climbing apparatus while Tony worked on testing the reverse-ray against on other objects.

Eventually, after some guidance from Friday, Loki had coaxed one of the rats who had a particular fondness for Midgardian cereal into learning to spin in a circle if he rotated his finger above its head. Not so long afterwards, Tony had set its age back to what he estimated was only a short number of days. Loki rotated his finger. The rat did not move. Loki tried again and the only response he received was a curious sniff.

Loki had been ready to draw a conclusion, to declare that the reverse-ray did not only have an effect on physicality, but Tony insisted that the test needed to be repeated in order to be considered reliable and so it was that Loki found himself having to go through the same process again and again with a different rat each time.

The results did not differ. Each time, the animals would no longer perform the trick and when Tony undid the effects of the ray by having it bring them back to their present physical and mental state, they would perform it again.

“Do you reckon they remember going back and forward?” Tony had asked once neither of them saw the point of repeating the test yet another time. “If their brains are stuck in the past, do they perceive what already happened to them or does it feel like a weird jolt to them when they are suddenly somewhere else? Because the last they remember, they were probably back in their lab and suddenly they’re here with us. Or when they're back in the present, do they know their brains went back for a moment there? And when their brains went back and they're taking in new data, like sniffing us, for example, does that mean we ended up encoding our smells to younger versions of their brains? And would that mean that data was already there before we reversed their brains because their brains had already encoded it?” Tony noticed Loki’s expression. “Don’t panic, we’ve done enough for today. Time to call it a night, I think. Tests for another day.”

Loki suddenly found himself a lot more grateful for his new responsibilities as the keeper of the animals rather than having to draw solid conclusions himself. The speculation he entertained and even enjoyed the challenge of to some extent, but he was very much aware of his ability when trying to find a single answer to only discover several more questions in its place.

Loki did not miss how Tony had to take a resolute breath before activating the door, how much more tension there was in his stance now that his mind was not occupied with Midgardian science and the Time Gem. Loki had been putting serious consideration into claiming that not being Midgardian meant he could go for far longer without requiring sleep until he had witnessed it. It was not far from the truth but that factor, along with how locking himself away would have felt like another defeat, was why Loki did not remain far behind.

Tony had entered the cabin before him, making his way over to the left side before pushing a button that released metal shutters that covered the entirety of the windows, sealing them completely. 

Loki remained standing, the anger that he need not have spent hours feeling as if the void itself was waiting for him rooting him to the spot, the anger that he would have known if only Tony–

If only Tony had _what?_ Why would Tony have reason to mention the shutter mechanism to him if he had no knowledge of how the void haunted him?

There was that bitter taste left in his mouth again.

The chairs were able to be adjusted to tilt back far enough to be at a comfortable angle to lie on but there wasn’t anything else remotely comfortable about them. They were slightly too narrow and placed too close to each other for comfort – only a few feet apart, something that could not be avoided with the confines of the ship and a lack of space anywhere else.

Loki shifted in his seat, turning to one side but finding that piece of metal once again making itself known to him even through the blankets Tony had purchased for their journey. Loki shuffled again, trying to see if he could subvert it but having no success, the only result being a few creaking noises.

Even with the windows secured the cabin was still not quite in total darkness, the buttons and levers emitting dim red and green glows.

“It feels like I’m trying to take a nap at Springfield Power Plant.”

“You know that means little to me.”

“I know.” Silence fell. And then, “You’re missing out on a lot, you know.”

“I haven’t had the time nor motivation to indulge an exploration of Midgardian media.”

“There’s a lot of a trash to sift through but we’ve still got a lot of great stories. And classic rock is always a win. We’re shit when it comes to loads of other things but I can’t really say how we compare to the rest of the universe. The Taradaxian’s don’t seem the type to know what blu-ray is. You know what would be a total surprise? If they were really into chick flicks. Or stand up.”

“I may not know much of Midgardian tales, but I know that in comparison to all of the other species I have come across, you alone as a race have singularly derived an entire subset of humour based entirely on making references to your own media.”

“We’re the only ones?” Tony's laugh sounded oddly proud. “Course we are.”

“Every species has a distinguishing feature they value about themselves,” Loki said. He was going to follow it up with another sentence but then it occurred to him that he did not know what trait the Jotuns had.  

Tony let out a yawn. “Every time I think the universe can’t get weirder it proves me wrong.”

“It’s spiteful like that.”

“Nah." There was the sound of leather rubbing against fabric, a sound Loki assumed was caused by Tony turning in his seat. "The worst thing about the universe isn’t that it hates you or that it’s out to get you or has plans for other people but not you. It’s just its complete indifference. The universe doesn’t give a shit about us, about anyone. It’s cold and too big to even conceptualise and…I don’t know where I’m going with this. But sometimes chaos is comforting. Because sometimes you can make stuff out of random chance. At least it means you actually have a chance because the universe is impartial and it’s not working against you. You can blame it on a bad luck, not a bad dealer.”

It took a moment before Loki replied. “You and I see the universe very differently. I am not certain you would say the same if had the same familiarity with the tapestries of fate as I do.”

“Even if this tapestry thing does exist, you said it sees possibilities, not predestined stuff. No one’s supposed to do anything, no one’s _not_ supposed to do anything. Shit happens and you make choices. Hopefully so less shitty stuff happens.”

There was a long pause. “I recall you telling me about the theory you Midgardians have about a multiverse,” Loki began. He hesitated for a second before pressing forward. “Tell me – is there one in which I never discovered my true heritage? Is there one in which I never fell–” there was the barest trace of hesitation before Loki added, “–From grace? Is there one in which I am...” _Happy._ “...not quite so popular with my enemies?”

“In theory, an infinite number.”

“I see.” Loki had never experienced envy of _himself_ before. “And I suppose in a disproportionate number of these realities I am still...very much myself.”

“Can you even have a disproportionate amount of infinity? I’m not sure you can. And if it makes you feel any better, they’d be a number of infinite versions of you who both are and aren’t as unlucky and as prone to making as terrible decisions as you. No offence, but you _have_ made terrible decisions before. I mean, so have I so I’d _also_ have an infinite number of Tony’s making both infinitely worse and infinitely better choices than me.” Tony yawned again. “Maybe I’m not in the best shape to do theoretical math right now.”

“Sleep then.”

There was a stretch of silence. “I… I want to. But I also don’t want to. What if the moment I’m not occupied with working or talking I’ll suddenly remember where I am and it’ll all be too much?” Tony let out a laugh that had no trace of humour in it, a harsh and sour thing. “Is that pathetic?”

Loki fingered the stretch of skin between his thumb and forefinger, unable to think of a response that could be even remotely halfway adequate. “I don’t think you’re pathetic.” Loki wasn’t familiar with the role of being a comforter or having to reassure but he knew Tony and Tony relied on empirical truth, not falsehoods. He couldn’t assure Tony that there was nothing wrong, that there was nothing to be afraid of, or that they would both survive, but he could offer the truth. “You’re still here, despite it all.”

“It’s this or potentially let everyone I know die. Either way, it all comes back down to fear.”

“Only those who lack the intellectual capacity to realise they _should_ be afraid are the ones who are never afraid. And those sorts of people are good for very little.”

“I’m in a ship I can fly, there’s no one chasing us or asteroid fields or any other imminent danger. And if there was, we could just teleport away. Logically, I’m safer on this ship than crossing a street. And I’ve survived far worse than this. This is just flying a ship.”

“Maybe it’s not about what you survived.”

“I’m not following.”

“Maybe it’s about how you survived it. Your particular talent for thinking your way out of situations and inventing has probably saved your life more times than you can count.”

The chair next to him creaked. “So’s dumb luck.”

“Luck isn’t a thing you can rely on.”

There was that laugh again, less harsh than earlier. “Yeah, that’s not reassuring. I guess that’s why this is hard.”

“It is.”

“But thanks. About the brain stuff, I– I appreciate it. And it’s given me an idea, actually. About trying to think my way around not thinking. Don’t know why I didn’t think of it earlier, it’s so simple.” There was the sound of Tony’s fingers scrabbling in his pockets. “Classic rock’s always had my back.”

“Goodnight then.”

“See you bright and early tomorrow.”

Then there was a faint click and Loki could hear Tony's music, made faint and distorted by the distance.

***

Neither of them had slept well.

Loki felt far from graceful, his thoughts too groggy to be clear and moving requiring far more effort than it should have done.

Once Tony was awake he was normally  _very_ awake, alert and just as talkative as his usual self was. But Tony was neither of those things.

Loki remained lying in his tilted back chair, staring at the ceiling and half-heartedly trying to summon the energy to move. Most of his memories of the previous night were filled with strange fleeting dreams he could not recall but was certain must have involved the void somehow, the increasing urge to maim his seat, and the continuous tinny sound of Tony’s Midgardian music.

Tony was the first to break the stillness, dragging himself to his feet and letting out a groan. “Ow. My back. That’s it – I’m officially an old man.” Tony rubbed at the corners of his eyes. “Right. I’m gonna see if a shower will wake me up since coffee might be in short supply.”

“You brought a coffee machine?”

“No. Had to go with just powder to save room. What? It’s an essential for mornings worse than this. Assuming it even _is_ morning. This trip’s gonna throw my bodyclock way off. Screw it. If we’ve woken up, it’s morning. It’s got to be morning somewhere, right? Forget being pedantic or going off what time it’d be back on Earth.”

“For the sake of simplicity,” Loki said, “I am in favour of this proposal.”

***

“Are you psychic?”

Loki was startled out of his conversation with Friday – Tony had returned to the cabin sooner than anticipated, opening the doors just wide enough to stick his head through.

“Pardon?"

“How the hell did you get the shower working? There are ten different dials and none of them seem to actually get the water out. And I’m a tech guy – admittedly, not a plumber – but if either of us should’ve figured it out it should’ve been me. Do you have unnecessarily complicated showers in Asgard too? Is that how you somehow got it working?”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to–”

“Maybe I’m just tired and lazy. Help a guy out? Which thing do I turn?”

“I’m not sure I remember.”

“Then come take a look. Refresh your memory.”

“I really don’t–”

“It’s either that or you have to risk dealing with me not showering this entire trip. Your call.”

Being unable to think of a conceivable response in time – Loki cursed what exhaustion did to his mind – he made a show of rolling his eyes and standing.

He hadn’t quite anticipated being faced with that much flesh when he stepped through the door, although he supposed it should have been expected for Tony to only be wearing a towel given the circumstances.

How someone could be so nonchalant about revealing that much flesh, Loki could not say. Thor had often teased him when they had been boys because Loki would remain fully clothed with not so much as a slither of the skin on his wrists or legs showing while Thor and the Warriors Three would roam around the realms half naked whenever they detected the slightest bit of warm weather.

Loki also hadn’t expected to have been confronted with a scar that bore as much resemblance to his own, only this one was larger and cleaner and placed higher up.

“Funnily enough, having a hole inside you leaves its mark.”

Loki did not miss the irony. “I know.” _Funnily enough_.

Tony allowed him to pass so he could enter the bathroom first.

The sight of the shower was a confronting one. Tony had not been exaggerating when he had given an estimate of ten dials; there were twisting ones, winding ones, ones that had rusted over and ones that had strange dark stains on them.

Loki opted out of touching the unidentifiable substances and the dials that had been left to rust – clearly they were not mechanisms that were frequently used. But that still left a total of six dials. _How many different options does a shower need?_ He couldn’t imagine what they were all for. The nozzle did not look all that different from standard Midgardian ones.

But hesitating would bring attention to the fact that Loki was even less familiar with the ship’s shower than Tony was as much as him choosing the incorrect dial would. He chose a large square one that rotated easily in his hand for no discernable reason other than it happened to be there and he had to choose one of them. At first nothing seemed to happen but then there was a disconcerting hiss coming from the pipes that did not quieten.

“Uh… That doesn’t sound healthy.”

Desperation drove Loki to choose another and the hissing turned into a bubbling.

“I’m opting out of being boiled alive,” Tony announced, taking a step backwards.

Loki turned the dials back and straightened, waiting for his lie the previous day to be called into the open, to have to fumble for more excuses.

It took an embarrassing amount of resolve to turn around to face Tony.

And Tony – Tony was looking at him with the same expression he had when he reached a conclusion, only it lacked the usual joy.

_No, no, no, no, no_ –

This was far worse. This was worse having to grabble for more lies, worse than Tony just knowing he had lied about his appearance after he had sat facing the void. Because now Tony knew he had reason to lie about it.

After all Loki’s efforts to conceal his hatred of the void, after everything Loki had done to keep his mask in place, Tony _knew_.

Tony did not say anything at first and Loki watched him swallow, unable to move, unable to _think_.

Loki braced himself for the scorn, for Tony’s epiphany of _you’re just as pathetic as I am_ , but it did not come. If it had, Loki saw no reason for the traces of sadness in the lines of Tony's face. He braced himself for the next worse outcome: pity.

Pity would be almost as intolerable as the loss of respect, the knowledge that this was what a god had been lowered to.

“I’m sorry,” Tony said. _And there it is_ _._ “Sorry I didn’t notice.”

But it wasn’t said with pity, it wasn’t _pity_ in Tony’s eyes. It was something else. Loki tried to identify it but he couldn’t see beyond the reflection of himself.

Then Tony stepped to one side, allowing Loki to pass between where he had been stood and the door.

Loki did not hesitate to exit.

“I’ll…” Tony started from behind him. “I’ll get Friday talking to the ship. You don’t have to navigate if you don’t want to. Do you... Do you want me to?”

Loki couldn’t quite bear to turn around to face him again, not so soon after what Tony had just done for him, what he had offered to do specifically for _him_. But he knew Tony would catch sight of his barely there nod, that slight incline of the head.

And for that, Loki was not without gratitude.


	34. Chapter 34

The doors slid open and from somewhere behind Loki there was the sound of a throat clearing, practically delicately done by Tony’s standards.

Loki did not turn around.

He knew this had to happen eventually: there were only so many places on the ship he could remain without encountering Tony. The bathroom he’d avoided because, based on the various clangs and grunts, Tony was attempting to get the shower working. The kitchenette he declined as an option due to how there was barely space for the two of them to stand in and he had little reason to want to return to the cabin. By process of elimination, the workshop was the only remaining choice.

In any other situation, the workshop would have been one of the first places he would think to avoid, given how workshops were so often paired with Tony, but considering how few other options he had and the inevitability that he would have to speak to Tony again at some point, he’d opted for the room with the largest area.

It also happened that the workshop offered a convenient excuse in that he’d need to enter it anyway to complete the list of daily tasks Friday had supplied with him with in regards to his new duties as the keeper of the rats. This way, he had a chance of making what might be a halfway convincing act of him not in fact avoiding Tony, but merely going about his duties instead.

_His duties_ , Loki thought, as if he was some sort of servant. In some ways, he supposed they both were servants to the cause, working tirelessly and without pay for an indefinite length of time and with the only reward being themselves and the people they knew not being killed. _Lower even than a servant then_ , Loki corrected himself. _Servants receive pay._

In spite of how much he resented the principle of it, he could not fully bring himself to resent what his duties required of him in the present moment. It was difficult to dislike dealing with the rats, not when they had such an innate curiosity for anything both inside and outside of their cage. It was proving impossible to reach inside of the cage to clean something or replace their food without his fingers being sniffed or pawed at or his arm being climbed like a bridge by the braver more adventurous creatures.

Tony’s steps sounded closer.

Loki hadn’t been certain how much time Tony would give him but he had hoped for longer. Idiotically. Given the circumstances, they could not avoid each other indefinitely. In fact, it would inhibit what little momentum they had.

“So...” Tony began and Loki knew that would be when it would start. Because of course Tony would want to know. Of course Tony would be curious about what could rattle not just his partner but also a god. Perhaps on some bizarre level, Tony might have even sought camaraderie with someone whose experiences might not have been all that dissimilar to his own. “I think we’ve got a lot to–“

“A lot to _what_ exactly?”

To think that he had hopes of Tony indulging him and _not_ asking questions for just a short while longer.

Anyone else might have flinched. “I was going to say a lot to do. With our experiments.”

Loki could feel the fight leave him in the next breath. “Oh.”

Somehow it was difficult to make sense of it. Tony _knew_ and he wasn’t asking further questions or making demands of him or…

Loki couldn’t help but wonder _why_ Tony was humouring him so much. It might have made him angry once, the notion that a _mortal_ was humouring him. But the anger wasn’t there so much as relief was. Wasn’t this the best option if Tony had to know? Would he rather have Tony behave in the same manner as someone like Thor would? Would there have been anything more excruciating? No – he would much prefer to have Tony playing on the same side of the board as him as opposed to rivalling him. But even so, the niggle of doubt about the possibility of him being wrong or that it wouldn’t last lingered.

“Yeah...” Tony said.

“I–”

“It’s fine. Let’s just… Let’s just get started.”

Could it have been that easy? And yet it was. And it wasn’t.

Tony did not pursue the topic any further and it remained between them, making them both so acutely aware of its presence despite neither of them acknowledging it out loud; Loki because acknowledging it would give it more life and power, and Tony because… Well, Loki was not entirely sure what Tony’s motives were. Perhaps the prospect of it hindering their progress and his own cooperation was enough to keep Tony’s curiosity at bay. Perhaps it was more out of convenience than kindness.

And yet he was able to recall multiple instances of Tony not shying away from conflict or arguments in the past, regardless of what impact it would have on their progress.

Maybe this was what a gift was if it had no physical form, only to be given in a gesture. Loki might have been tempted for a moment to give his thanks aloud, if not for their unspoken law about not acknowledging it.

“I believe,” Loki said, “we were planning to test what role the reversal of the rats’ minds has with regards to when their learning and memory originates.”

“Bingo. Might be a couple of minor issues though. I didn’t think of bringing a CT scanner or PET scanner or anything like that – there’d be no room for them anyway – so I’m thinking in order to get a full look at everything that goes on inside their little heads, I’m gonna have to come up with something like a makeshift MRI scanner. Which, considering how small their brains are and how I’m not a neuroscientist, might have a few problems.”

“I don’t understand–”

“MRI stands for magnetic resource imaging so we’d need to–”

“I meant,” Loki continued, “that I don’t understand why in order to establish cause and effect, you need to examine their brains with these imaging devices. As we discovered yesterday, simply monitoring their behaviour was enough for us to determine whether they were retaining information or not. And if we are looking to establish at what point their new memories take hold after their minds have been altered, I see no reason why a similar test would not suffice.”

“Huh.” Tony cocked his head. “That’s… That’s actually a very good point. I mean, just monitoring behaviour alone isn’t enough to get a complete full picture but it’s probably the best option we have right now.” A slow smile spread. “You might be getting the hang of this science thing. If you actually come up with a way of testing it for sure, I might have to promote you.”

As it happened, Loki already had an idea. It was the same test as they had done the previous day, except with one small modification: after they first reversed the age of the rats, Loki taught them another trick, this time to hop into his hands if he gave a twitch of his fingers. Then he’d make the same motion when the rats were sped forward to their true age. And this time, when he made the gesture with his fingers, the rats still leapt.

“Well,” Tony remarked. “Would you look at that?”

Loki rewarded the rat currently sat in one hand with a treat the rat accepted despite eying him with slight wariness, as if he might change his mind and steal the food back.

“They remember,” Loki said. “What exactly–”

“I’m not sure. But there are a few things we can conclude, the first being–”

“The first being that once the mind has been reverted, it is still capable of processing and learning new information that can be stored and used in the present.”

“Right. And the second being that once the brain’s been restored back to its present self, it no longer _is_ its present self. Or what _was_ its present self. Because once we’ve sent it back, we can’t get back a perfectly intact version of what it was before because going back means there _is_ going to be change. I can rewind with the reverse-beam but the instant I let it play it won’t be the same movie anymore. It’s kind of like the movie updates itself and you can't uncheck the automatic updates box.”

“Does that mean that if we had used an alteration of this device on ourselves, we would already know about it?”

Tony let out a long breath. “I think so?" He ran his fingers through his hair. "If we somehow used this on ourselves and the whole of New York too then I guess we’d have to remember, wouldn’t we? Okay – going out on a limb here and assuming that us playing as Time Lord heroes is the reason everything isn’t as fucked up, then it makes me wonder whether we’d remember only the new version of events – the one where everyone _didn’t_ die – or both versions of events. Or whether it’s a complete override when we modify stuff or if it’s more linear and it’s just like we’ve backtracked a layer over our own timeline before going back to the present.”

It was odd how disappointing it was, how much they still needed to find the explanation for what had happened when Thanos invaded – or didn’t invade – Midgard, how strongly the puzzle was calling out to be solved. Loki hadn’t realised how much he’d wanted it up until that moment, how he had without even being aware of it, pinned his hopes on the tests on the reverse-beam providing an explanation.

Tony’s face was an echo of his own disappointment. “Well… I really hope this Collector guy has some answers because we’re sure as hell not having any luck.”

“Well,” Loki said, “I suppose we know what we have to test next.”

“We do?”

“You said it yourself: we could aim to target an entire location.”

“Wait – you mean New York?”

Loki nodded. “If we were to revert a place instead of ourselves then that would mean we could operate with all the information we have learned and that could also explain why we can’t remember travelling backwards in time – because it would be the location reverting backwards instead of us.”

“That’s it.” Tony pointed a finger at him. “I’m promoting you from lab assistant to lab partner. Right now.”

***

The title of being Tony’s laboratory partner was purely superfluous; Loki role remained exactly the same as it had previously been, with the only exception being that Tony asked him more questions related to their experiments and findings rather than questions more limited to magic or the Time Gem.

Each day, unmarked by any sun, passed quickly with them being kept so thoroughly occupied, and the nights, though less long than they had once been, still felt longer than the days.

Lying in the cabin with Tony in the chair next to him brought back memories of the tent they had shared on Alfheim. There was the severely limited space, having to sleep on objects that should never have had to be used as bedding, and how sealed off they were from the outside world. Only this time there was no mourning, just the two of them being equally determined to ignore their outside surroundings as much as possible. One of the most effective methods proved to be by conversing.

Loki supposed the conversations were mutually beneficial; he sought to temper his thoughts away from space, as did Tony. But that didn’t explain why sometimes, when the exhaustion of the day’s work began to take its toll, he’d find himself almost looking forward to their talks.

It was commonplace for them to speak at length during the day, often regarding various experiments and theories, but critiques of each of their inevitably dismal attempts at cooking the evening meal were not uncommon either. But it was conversing mostly for the purpose of gleaning information and ideas rather than conversing for conversing’s sake and the two were not the same.

They both had a large supply of anecdotes, many of Loki’s revolving around various stories in which Thor had humiliated himself, and many of Tony’s revolving around various stories in which Tony had humiliated himself.

On one such night, Tony introduced Loki to the music he called classic rock but for all his talk about the magic and power of it, it only sounded like raucous noise to Loki’s ears.  When Loki had shared his opinion, Tony nodded with vigorous delight and said, eyes alight, “ _Exactly._ ”

More often than not, Loki prefered to avoid looking at their progress on the map: it was a depressing depiction of how much of their journey there was still left to make, of how little distance across space they had travelled. But day by day, in increments smaller than the width of a finger, they got closer to Knowhere.

As time passed, it became easier to forget about the outside world, that there was nothing but _space_ outside of their ship. Sometimes it was easy to forget that it _was_ a ship in the first place and not a small space of their own they had confined themselves too. There were moments when it began to feel like Loki was back in his cell, except that he wasn’t alone this time.

Sometimes, but not constantly, he would have prefered to be alone, if only for a few hours. The bathroom was the only respite of solitude he had and on the days where the thought of having to spend more time in the presence of another person was more exhausting than the reality of having to do so, sometimes something so minor as the sound of someone else’s breathing was enough to spike his irritation. On those days, the length of time Loki spent observing and interacting with the rats increased significantly, letting them run amok the workshop once the materials and tools were out of reach.

But Loki was not the only person the confinement was affecting. Tony’s fidgeting was worse than usual and on a number of occasions, Loki had walked in to find Tony exercising by jumping up and down on the spot. Sometimes Tony would pace restlessly from one compartment to the next in a route that looped endlessly from the front to the back of the ship, and other times he’d toy absentmindedly with various switches and mechanisms.

Oddly enough, when it came to their work, Tony was the most focused Loki had witnessed him and it was as if all the constraints of the ship had been cut away. When they were working Tony could go from being restless to perfectly still, from endless idle chattering to being so enraptured that he would forget to speak. It was strangely contradictory to Tony’s persona, how he could remain so utterly lost in what they were doing and yet unable to focus hard enough to speak on the same topic for more than a few minutes at a time when they were no longer working.

Tony’s endurance was the main reason why they progressed at the speed that they did. In less than a matter of days, he had assembled a machine that was similar to the reverse-beam but was considerably larger and composed out of a large clear cylinder with an opening hatch and the Time Gem stored inside the lid. When activated, instead of shooting out a singular ray of amber, it projected the whole of the interior of the cylinder with the light, filling it like a liquid container.

With the new invention, they were no longer limited to singular objects: whatever objects were placed within the cylinder were able to be altered regardless of whether they were stacked one on top of one another or whether they were solids or liquids or gas.

The only objection Loki had was that he did not quite understand why Tony appeared to have deemed the inside of it as an appropriate place to store his drink.

“So,” Tony said. “Moment of truth. Because the thing is, if we do get this to scale somewhere as big as New York then we need to figure out if the reversing effects still apply to things that are outside the cylinder's reach. Because if not, I guess we’ll just end up with an older New York and no sign of Thanos. But if the particles hold some trace of memory of ones that used to be among them or if the gem’s able to somehow summon the particles that used to be there then…it might actually work.” Tony had not taken his eyes off the thing, so captured by the possibilities it held.

“I assume you have already thought of a way of testing this.”

“Brace yourself. It’ll be the most complicated set-up so far, the most confusing and convoluted experiment we’ve done yet.”

“Oh?”

Tony reached inside the machine and retrieved his mug. “Ugh.” He pulled a face. “Instant.” It clattered when he placed it down on the worktop. “Alright. So that’s the set-up sorted.”

“All of it?”

“Yep.”

“And what exactly are you hoping to accomplish?”

Tony grinned. “You’ll see. Hopefully. If this goes how I hope it’ll go. So – now for the actual testing.”

Tony turned a dial on the back of the machine and the effect was not immediate: it came slowly, the orange light gradually becoming stronger and stronger. And then there was just a flicker of movement inside of it, something that could have been passed off as a reflection in the glass except…

Were those hands?

They had entered the cylinder, first just the fingertips but then the rest of the palms and down to the wrists and they were completely cut off at the hatch of the door, giving them the appearance of being disembodied and floating. And they were not empty. There was something inside of them.

Was that a mug?

_Oh, of course_ –

They were Tony’s hands. Or, more accurately, they _had been_ Tony’s hands. If everything within the volume of the cylinder was being reversed – including everything that had once been in the cylinder – then what Loki was seeing was Tony retrieving the mug, only in the opposite order to how he had first witnessed it.

Tony adjusted the dial again and they both stared in silence at what was now the scene stilled.

“Are you–” Tony turned to face him. “Are you getting this? This is huge!”

“I know,” Loki breathed.

“But this is– This is the closest we’ve ever got to time travelling! I could reach in there right now and steal that mug from myself and alter the course of history. Who says you have to start big? I mean, I’m not actually going to, not yet. Because paradoxes are a whole other can of worms and I’m not even gonna start thinking about them until we’re at least…I don’t know, most of the way to time travelling.”

“Tony,” Loki said, “this _is_ already close. If the cylinder was large enough for us to walk through the hatch then we would be stepping back through time without our minds being altered.”

Tony visibly swallowed. “Well… When you put it like that. I guess– I guess I wasn’t prepared to have it so soon, you know?” He fiddled with the seam of his sleeve. “I mean, technically we can’t time travel yet. And if we did, we’d be limited to somewhere the size of the container…” Tony trailed off in thought. “Stepping stones,” he announced abruptly. “It’s a stepping stone. And just because _we_ can’t fit in there doesn’t mean that anyone smaller than us can’t.”  

“You think it’s time to try sending the rats back in time?”

“Later. But not yet. There’s no point yet, not if I can’t figure out how to make this thing bigger without its power getting diluted. It’s not like it doesn’t have the juice, it just doesn’t seem to want me to have all of it yet.”

“Then take it as a blessing that the gem is not bestowing the whole of its power upon you at once. If it did, it could easily destroy you, perhaps even by accident.”

***

“Here’s to not being smited,” Tony announced, clinking his glass against Loki’s.

They had discovered a couple of bottles hidden away in the back of a cupboard they hadn’t checked in the kitchenette as thoroughly as they thought they had and saw no reason why they should both not consume what was clearly Taradaxian alcohol and why they shouldn’t have a minor celebration after the success of their day’s work. “Oh – and actually sort of getting there with figuring out this time travel stuff. That’s probably worth slipping in somewhere.”

“I believe it might be.” Loki took a sip and pulled back. “This tastes oddly similar to elvish wine.”

“So you do have drinks that aren’t just mead, despite what Thor wants us to believe.”

“My brother’s tastes are hardly cultivated ones.”

“I’d agree with you except for one thing: Jane Foster.”

“Yes,” Loki said, “I’ve never managed to understand what exactly the two of them have in common.”

“You mean why an astrophysicist wouldn’t be interested in a weirdly human alien who comes from a place where you can just catch the Bifrost-train to other planets?”

“There is a difference between talking and getting _that_ familiar.”

Tony smirked. “Maybe she thinks his muscles are a bonus. Because, in case you haven’t noticed, Thor’s jacked. Or who knows, maybe they both got a bit starry-eyed talking about the stars so much.”

“My brother has demonstrated almost every day he continues to exist that he holds little value for intelligence.”

“You certain? Because, sure, Thor isn’t a genius but Thor loves talking about how many awards Jane’s won with that big brain of hers.”

“Ah,” Loki said, taking another sip, “then it must to be _my_ intelligence he holds little value for.”

The look Tony gave him was a sharp one. "Only when your intelligence means you do a good job of destroying things. How many planets did you attack and he still tried to talk you out of your supervillain shtick? Because if that isn’t valuing you, I don’t know what is.”

“I don’t require validation from–”

“You do realise you’re the one who brought it up, right? I’m just the one that corrected you.”

Loki frowned and opened his mouth to argue.

“Anyway,” Tony said lightly, taking a swig from his glass. “You said this is similar to elven wine?”

“I did.”

“Hm. Not my drink but, all in all, not bad. Shame neither of us can cook a decent meal to go with it.”

“I am unused to preparing Midgardian ingredients and using these sorts of cooking utilities.”

“Oh, right,” Tony scoffed, “like you had to cook for yourself when you were a prince.”

Loki still hadn't gotten quite used to thinking of himself as a former prince of Asgard. Although, now that he came to think of it, there was one other realm he might have technically still been a prince of.

“Adventurers don’t take their servants with them on their expeditions. We had to learn to hunt and cook our meat over fires and find wild fruits and vegetables in the forests and land.”

“But the point is that when it comes to cooking in a kitchen we’re both screwed. But, who knows, maybe your food would have some actual flavour if I thought to ask you to bring along some Asgardian food.”

“What you optimistically give the name _meals_ to has the opposite problem: they have far too much flavour.”

“Is it bad that this is the best I’ve ever cooked? You know what? This is probably why I don’t cook.”

“No,” Loki corrected, “this is why other people don’t _allow_ you to cook.”

“Why would I learn to cook my own food when I could just buy other people’s already better made food? It’s not laziness if you’re supporting local businesses and the economy. And hey – you didn’t eat that badly back when I was in charge of ordering, did you? I thought I did a pretty good job of introducing you to food from around the world. I mean, you’ve literally introduced me to other worlds – pretty much every world in the Nine Realms except Asgard and…” Tony counted down on his fingers. “What’s the other one?”

“Muspelheim.”

“Right, Muspelheim. Which one’s Muspelheim?”

“You wouldn’t like it. It’s far too hot.”

“What are we talking – sunscreen factor fifty?”

“We are talking continual volcanic eruptions and ever-flowing rivers of lava.”

“Yeah, the sunscreen’s not gonna be much help.”

“I thought as much.”

“Well,” Tony said, extending an arm to refill their glasses. “At least this means I don’t owe you a drink anymore.”

***

“What kind of truck drivers have wine hidden away in the glove compartment, anyway?”

“The more I learn about Taradaxians,” Loki replied, placing his drink on the control panel and then thinking the better of it, “the less I understand about them.”

“Tell me about it. I found a load of scales that had sort of congealed with a load of black gooey stuff on the dials in the shower and I think some of it must’ve got in the pipes as well. Which is something I _really_ don’t want to have flashbacks to. But speaking of the shower – I got it working. And Friday'll be talking to the ship any day now. I’ve got her working on a software for it because apparently, aliens work in ternary instead of binary.”

The sense of elation that had been a combination of their accomplishments of the day and the liberation of the wine – not that it was particularly potent, just enough to leave a small glow in his stomach – stuttered.

Loki had not masked it quickly enough.

“Look,” Tony said, “I get it. You don’t want to talk about it. And I’m not qualified to talk you into talking about it so I… I’m just not going to.”

For a short number of seconds, it became incredibly difficult to talk, incredibly difficult to formulate a verbal response. “Tony," Loki said. "This hasn’t– This hasn’t gone unappreciated.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“I know.” Loki was able to meet his eyes. “I wasn’t going to. I just… I wanted you to know.”

Tony broke the stare and nodded. “And now I do.” The words were not spoken matter of factly or without deliberate choice.

“And now we never need to speak of it again.”

Tony gave a huff of laughter. “It’s not… It’s not actually that bad.”

“Are you presuming to know what happened to–”

“I meant talking about it, not what you went through. But, er – clearly it’s time for a change of topic. You know something I found out about myself just before we left? I’m an alien. Apparently, me building spaceships isn’t out there enough for the real diehard conspiracy theorists so they had to go one step further and accuse me of being an alien.” Tony sounded oddly enthusiastic about it. “If anything, I’m slightly pissed it’s taken them this long. I thought when I’d be accused it’d be because my tech is so far advanced and I’m clearly inhumanly intelligent and charismatic. Not because of me crash landing a spaceship on my roof. That’s kind of embarrassing. If this happened ten years ago instead no one would believe me if I said I had a spaceship even when there are pretty clear photos and video footage of our spaceship crash landing. And then there are all the witnesses who also saw it happen. But you know what’s worse? Other people just think I did a really bad job of designing one of the first proper flying cars. It’s insulting.”

Despite his previous perhaps slightly rash anger, there were pricklings of amusement beginning to rise. “Your reputation is at stake.”

“I’d prefer to be accused of secretly harbouring a spaceship that _that_. And, yeah – I’m totally harbouring a spaceship. I’m just not great at going incognito. But I guess they’ve seen weirder things. Especially coming out of my tower.”

“Now, them accusing _me_ of being an alien I could understand.”

“Yeah. That’s the funniest part. I hopped out of a spaceship with an actual alien and for some reason _I’m_ the one the conspiracists think isn't from Earth. And speaking of our ship – we’ve gotta give it a name.”

“It that truly necessary?”

“Every good and even bad piece of tech gets a name. At least all the tech I’ve invented does. And since we’ve kind of adopted this one I kind of feel like it should get a name too.”

“I remain indifferent.”

“I guess that’s better than referring to a ship as _she_.”

Loki gave him a questioning look. “Is this a ship with something like your Friday inside?”

“Nope. Just a ship. Any ship. Any material – wood, metal, you name it.”

Loki pulled a face. “Why in the Nine Realms–”

“I don’t know. But it’s–”

“An absurd tradition?”

“Yes. That. Now – a name. The Undersized doesn’t really have the same ring to it as The Titanic. And we can’t call it The Starship Enterprise – not even ironically. You know what’d really match our ship?”

“I have already informed you that I have little interest in naming our vessel.”

“The Planet Express. Get it? Because it’s like express pizza but for space? And we’re also naming it after an actual spaceship so... ”

“If you say so.”

“Wow – you really _don’t_ give a shit, do you?”

“If I didn’t know better I would accuse you of not paying attention.”

Later, much later, after Loki had thought Tony had long since been asleep when Tony surprised him by murmuring out loud, “Loki?”

“What is it?” Loki couldn’t say why he felt the need to speak just as quietly, it wasn’t as if they were in danger of waking anyone else from sleep.

There was the sound of Tony turning over and it was too dark to discern whether it was to face towards him or away. “Do you think it’s actually possible?”

Loki had an inkling as to what Tony was referring to but he found himself asking anyway, “Do I think what is possible?”

“Do you think we can beat this guy? Thanos? And do all the time travel and everything else that comes with it?”

For the second time that night, Loki was at a loss for words. He found them though, after a tense moment of silence. “I don’t think it is as impossible as I once did.”

“By your standards,” Tony said, “that’s practically optimistic.”


	35. Chapter 35

Although Loki’s relative optimism hadn’t entirely abandoned him, its foundations had become a little more unstable.

He didn’t know how Tony was doing it. How Tony was translating something as abstract as complex as magical energy into something that could be directed and controlled with wires and cables and component parts.

Except that, as it had turned out, Tony was still not directing _enough_ of it.

The walls of the cylinder had been removed and for the past couple of days, their prime objective had been enlarging the area the Time Gem could encompass. Tony’s mechanical tampering has gotten the area approximately twice the size it had been but for all it seemed as if the size had been growing exponentially, it had slowed dramatically before it came to a standstill.

“Perhaps you are reaching the maximum you can accomplish with your technology without also connecting to it on a magical level,” Loki had suggested as a theory.

“But that–” Tony broke off in frustration. He had been growing more agitated the more days that had passed without progress. “It could take _years_ if I have to learn magic properly. The last we tried how long did it take me to so much as _detect_ it?”

“The speed of your learning wasn’t slow,” Loki admitted. It had been far faster than he would have expected from races that did not have innate magic.

“Really? Because it felt slow. Three days and all I got was being able to say ‘yup, there’s magic there’ if I concentrated hard enough. It’s not like I really get how it fundamentally works. But when I work like this – when I get to toy with it and tamper  – it starts to make some sort of sense. It’s like I’m investigating a new element all over again, except this one’s extra special and sparkly. And my problem isn’t actually getting the Time Gem to work anymore. Because I’ve got that pretty much down. I can get it to rewind and that's the major thing we need. My problem is voltage. I need more drive, to be able to turn up the dial, to make everything _bigger_.”

“Then perhaps lessons in understanding the flow of magical energy – not just energy specific to using the Time Gem – is in order.”

“How long’s that gonna take? Are we talking a week-long course? The length of time it’d take me to get a degree? How long–”

“That would depend on how quickly you learn.” The words sounded more snippish than Loki had initially intended.

“And what if it doesn’t work? What if we’d just waste more time?”

“Then we’d have to think of something else.”

“Great. That again.”

Loki lost all his pretences of patience. “Well unless you have any _other_ suggestions, Tony, I suggest you stop listing all the possible ways we could bring ourselves an undesirable outcome.” He paused as Tony blinked in apparent shock and when he spoke again his tone was less harsh. “The definition of stupidity is repeating failures so when we are not having success, it stands to basic reason that trying something else is in order.”

“But it’s so arbitrary! Does the gem have a limit? Like it’s fine for me to use it up until a certain point I then I have to get at least a B on my magical theory test to carry on? And it’s having no problem _letting_ me use it, it’s just the amount of power I have a problem with. And, hey – maybe I’m just annoyed because I thought we concluded I’m better off understanding the Time Gem _my way_ instead of someone else’s because everyone knows magic is _your thing_ and–” Tony stopped mid rant and his jaw fell slack. “Oh.”

Loki frowned. “What?”

“Magic _is_ your thing. On multiple levels. That’s the whole point because you–” Tony pointed a finger at Loki “–are a walking battery.”

Loki remained no less confused.

“The Tesseract,” Tony stated and understanding began to dawn. “It boosts your magic. Without you even realising it. Am I right in saying you channel its power? Even if you might not be aware you’re doing it?”

Loki gave a nod of confirmation.

“So if the Tesseract can boost your magic, why can’t it give a boost the Time Gem too? Think about it!”

If the Tesseract granted him power without him even asking for it, could it do the same if he asked it to lend its power to another one of the Infinity Stones?

“But I am not able to operate the Time Gem,” Loki voiced aloud. “How could I direct the flow of energy if–”

“Make it go through me. I’ll be the lightning rod. The conductor. Whatever you want to call me.”

Maybe it was Tony’s wording, specifically the comparison to _lightning_ that made Loki begin to have more doubts.

“I’m not certain that’s a good idea.”

Tony pulled a face that expressed otherwise.

Loki decided that an elaboration was in order. “You are mortal and I don’t know the threshold of the Tesseract’s power you are able to withstand.”

“I survived teleporting. Coming to think of it, teleporting doesn’t even hurt anymore. Looks like the Tesseract tolerates me. But there’s only one way to find out how much it likes me. Light me up.”

If Loki was being truly honest, his decision might have been more influenced by Tony’s previous short-temperedness and his own irritation with how eager Tony was to be as reckless as possible than he would have liked to admit. It was a shame, Loki thought, that Tony had missed what he considered to be quite a spectacular roll of the eyes.

“Don’t claim I gave you no warning.”

Loki hadn’t tried this before. Manipulating the raw power of the Tesseract instead of anything else. But Tony’s theory had some merit behind it despite his lack of a grasp for magic, and the curiosity, the question of whether it could actually work and whether he could make another discovery about his own abilities, was enough to push him to continue.

Still, he wasn’t ignoring the potential that Tony could be damaged in doing so and it was for that reason he remained cautious.

Loki began by closing his eyes to seek out the feeling of the power – this time trying to look beyond the way the Tesseract allowed him to travel or create rifts or teleport. At first there was nothing more than a faint tingle, something so subtle he wasn’t certain if it was a result of his imagination. Then the sensation increased as he concentrated further.

It was like lifting a veil.

Where before he could only make out vague shapes and outlines, now he was so acutely aware of its existence it was difficult to understand how he had not been aware of it before.

But the strangest thing yet was the absolute certainty that the power was a part of him. It flowed through his veins as if they were pipes but it did it with such a gentle stillness – like water in a canal, not with the coursing torrents that had torn through his body when he had first tried to use it – it was no wonder he had not been aware of its presence. There was no way of knowing how long it had been there, as much a part of him as his blood was.

The fact that the Tesseract had infiltrated his system without him perceiving it was a slight concern. Did it count as infiltrating if he had few objections to it being there so long as it had no control over his mind or actions?

Loki gave it an experimental tug. There was a slight shifting of power, as if he had caused the smallest of waves to ripple across an ocean; the surface was malleable but the sea was too vast and too dense for him to be able to easily alter what lay in its depths.

Loki tried again and the wave was bigger this time, gaining momentum and being able to travel farther.

The third time the wave moved with such speed and force behind it that he had been certain it would reach land. He had expected the meeting of water with sand to be the moment when the power would transfer but instead it was more akin to water crashing against rocks.

There was a barrier.

“Is it doing anything?” Tony asked, breaking Loki’s concentration.

Loki opened his eyes. “It needs somewhere to go.”

Tony appeared doubtful for a moment. “You mean me?”

“Yes. Most likely.”

“Right. Uh… Is there anything I should be doing? Other than keeping an ear out for its phone call, I mean.”

“I don’t–” Loki shook his head. “I don’t know. Just try to receive it.”

Tony nodded and closed his eyes, those furrows that made themselves known when he was truly focusing his attention appearing. 

Loki could not fault him for a lack of effort.

The next wave was a larger one, one that rolled like a moving wall of water, one that, in a moment of panic, Loki realised he could not stop or slow down.

Loki opened his mouth to warn Tony, to tell him to stop, that it would be too dangerous for him to receive its impact, but there was no need. The wave hit the barrier and the impact was so solid it was almost physical, crashing against the lining of his skin and bones.

The barrier held.

“Tony.” Loki had never said the name with such urgency.

The sound of his voice caused Tony’s eyelids to fly open. “Hmm?”

“I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“What did I do?”

“It’s not about what _you_ did, it’s–”

“Alright then. What didn’t I do?

“It’s not about that either. I…” Loki trailed off, not particularly keen to share his newest revelation. “I can’t guarantee I can control how much of the power I unleash.”

There was an unsaid question in Tony's eyes. Loki supposed that, in spite of his own inwardly directed frustrations, it was something Tony should know, that his difficulty opening himself to receiving magic had been the thing that had saved him.  

After hearing Loki’s explanation, Tony gave a nod.

“So start off small again,” Tony said with such an air of casualness, as if Loki hadn’t almost transferred enough energy to risk killing him. “That seems like the best option, right? As long as we get a nice friendly beach wave, we’re good.”

Loki couldn’t quite comprehend at how much ease Tony had suggested repeating the process that could have cost him his life and was having to resort to staring in silence while he fully processed it.

“From the way you explained it,” Tony continued, “it sounds like the problem is the energy having nowhere to go. Which means I’m not receiving it so it has nothing to do but build up the pressure while it waits for an escape route.”

“I wouldn’t phrase it like that,” Loki said. “But essentially, yes.”

“So it’s like when there’s a storm and all the electrical potential builds up and up and sometimes it has to jump from the clouds to the ground – or sometimes even the other way around, depending on the charges – because that’s the path of the least resistance. So I’m thinking we bring the ground to the source instead of waiting for it to have to jump.”

“And how exactly…” Loki caught sight of Tony’s outstretched hand. “Ah.”

Loki made no move to take it.

“Magic friendship power circle,” Tony said with complete seriousness. If Loki had not known him better, he would have run the risk of missing the joke that was not intoned because of the utter sincerity in which it had been said.

Tony mistook Loki’s hesitance for a lack of comprehension. “Closeness helped me learn magic stuff the first time, remember? It was easier learning to detect magic when you wrapped it around me instead of keeping it at a distance. I figure it might help for learning to receive it as well. Like closing the circuit between us and the gems.”

Loki’s eyes moved from Tony’s hand to his face. “Are you certain it’s worth the risk?”

“I’ll be fine. Just don’t throw an entire sea at me. A little bit of water at a time.”

Loki remained in deliberation, the words having almost persuaded him but something remaining niggling at him.

Tony sighed. “I do actually wash my hands, you know.”

And then there was _that_ matter. How Tony, without thought, had stretched out a hand for the same person who had almost killed him. How Tony did not appear to have objections to making contact with the same hands that were responsible for tens and tens of Midgardian deaths. The same hands that had frozen the lips of Jotuns so they sealed shut.

“Can’t hurt to try,” Tony prompted. “You said it yourself – if something doesn’t go right we need to try something else. This is my suggestion.”

Loki had no counter-argument and it was a resigned movement, how he gingerly gripped not Tony’s hand but his wrist, his thumb and forefinger wrapped around the flesh.

The skin was warm against his own, warmer than he had anticipated. He had almost forgotten what flesh felt like: he was far more accustomed to contact with those he fought, or, more recently, Thor, who had resumed his habit of making his affections known by patting him on the shoulder or the back of the neck.

Still, the sensation was not entirely unpleasant.

_Pathetic._

Pathetic that he was so starved of fellow companionship that even the touch of a mortal was a welcome change to the eternal solitude.

“Child-friendly beach, okay?” Tony prompted and Loki realised he had been waiting.

This time the waves – and Loki ensured the waves _were_ gentle this time, no matter how tediously slowly they travelled – did not hit a barrier so much as drift into a membrane.

After Loki relayed as such, they tried again. And again.

“Can you feel it?” Loki asked.

“I can feel _something_. I think.”

“Good. I suppose that is a start. Now – I want to focus on that, to allow it to dominate your entire senses. And then when you feel the rhythm of the tide as it moves towards you, I want you to invite it in.”

“What am I supposed to do – send it a card?”

Loki bit down a laugh. “You are taking my words a little too literally, I think. Visualise it knocking at your door if you have to, imagine a phone ringing if that is what works for you.”

“Right.” Tony closed his eyes. “This feels way too much like some pseudo-science meditation bullshit for me to not feel like an idiot when I do this.”

“I do hope you're not focusing on that instead of what you should be focusing on.”

Tony's mouth twitched.

"Again," Loki instructed, sending another wave. 

***

By the time they had decided to call it a day, the membrane had thinned. Not enough for any of the power to flow through yet but enough that Loki was certain there had been an improvement, if only a barely perceptible one.

“Is magic stuff supposed to make you feel this drained?” Tony asked once they had settled into their seats for the night.

“It’s not uncommon. For those unfamiliar with it, it would be expected.” In fact, holding back the wave of power had been more draining than unleashing it for Loki. Not that he would admit to exhaustion.

“How long have you been doing magic for, anyway?”

“Since I was a child,” Loki replied. Then he grew more solemn. “My mother taught me most of what she knew.”

“But not Thor.”

Loki did not bother to repress the small smile that grew. “No.” And then in case Tony came to the conclusion that Frigga favoured her youngest son, Loki added, “Thor had no interest in the subtle magics.”

“No. He doesn’t seem the studious type.”

“I believe Thor’s philosophy as a child and young man was something along the lines of preferring to use brute force wherever possible. And not entirely whenever appropriate.”

“To be fair, it’s kind of been working for him so far.”

Loki almost snorted. “How dearly I would love to witness how Thor is dealing with all the current political upheaval…”

“Didn’t anyone give him Politics 101?”

“Many tried.” Loki watched absentmindedly as a light on the control panel flicked on and off.

“And Daddy-dearest didn’t intervene? Politics kind of seems like a thing royal heirs should know.”

“Odin is as blind to Thor’s faults as he is as blind in one eye.”

“And your mom didn’t…”

“She had other ideas.”

“Er…”

“She would rather have had me lurking in the shadows, ever unseen, the hidden figure and unseen hand behind the king.” Because of course that was the only way the rest of Asgard would have accepted him: when he was out of sight. Of course his propositions and policies would have been far more acceptable if they were voiced through Thor’s mouth instead of his own. Of course the people would love Thor more dearly for the ideas he never had rather than Loki for the ideas he did have.

And Loki had long since passed the point of having the energy to resent his mother for it again. If he removed himself from the equation, if he numbed his own feelings on the matter, he could understand the logic behind it. It didn’t mean he agreed with it, but he understood it.

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Tony said and the response had been so unanticipated and spoken with such a jarring matter-of-factness that Loki burst into laughter. “No, really,” Tony insisted. “You basically get to be the master of the puppets and if everything goes to shit, Thor gets all the blame.”

Loki’s laughter grew louder, into something undignified and unbefitting of a god, but he couldn't stop himself.

“Sounds like you would’ve got the sweet end of the deal if you ask me,” Tony finished.

“That,” Loki said, when his laughter had subsided enough for him to be able to speak, “is certainly is a different perspective.”

***

There had been a number of events that happened that day that were entirely unanticipated, but perhaps the most anticipated had occurred while Loki remained in the cabin as Tony had disappeared to the bathroom.

Because Loki had certainly not been expecting to have been able to hear a sudden cry of, “I’m an _idiot!_ ” through what must have been three metal doors.

He thought it said a lot when he was not entirely surprised that Tony had somehow managed to create a commotion while doing something as mundane as brushing his teeth.

“Do I want to be enlightened?” Loki asked as Tony entered through the door.

Tony paced instead of sitting down, eyes wide and his face animated. “First off – I figured out what the rest of the weird knobs on the shower are: they’re for cleaning and drying clothes. Yeah, you heard that right. I'm telling you, the Taradaxians are backwards. They've got space travel but they still have to wash their clothes like nineteenth century washerwomen. And secondly – and this is the really stupid part – I can’t believe I got as far as using _both_ the Tesseract and the Time Gem and I didn’t even think of…”

“Think of what?”

“Combining them. And not just for using one to amplify the other. As in for using both of their powers. Anyone ever told you how intrinsically linked space and time are? The space-time continuum is a massive sci-fi thing for a reason. And it just happens that I have the Time Gem and you have the Space Gem. So what I’m thinking is–”

“We merge the powers of the Space Stone and the Time Stone.”

“Exactly. I mean, when it came down to it, our problem wasn’t adjusting time: it was adjusting the space that was affected by time.”

Loki sat straighter in his seat. “So with the Tesseract directing the area affected by time–”

“Then – as long as we can actually do it – that should solve our problem,” Tony finished. “I still can’t believe the clue was in the name the entire fucking time. It’s called the _Space Stone_ and we needed to increase the area affected by the Time Stone and we _still_ didn’t manage to figure it out. Nope. Instead we had to try to figure out some insanely convoluted solution instead involving you shifting scary amounts of power, me having to learn to receive magic, and almost getting fried as a result.”

Loki stared ahead in what was not horror but dismay.

“And another thing,” Tony continued just as Loki thought his rant was over, “– actually, it’s not another thing. It’s back to my first point. Why did I get as far as thinking of combining them but not for what the gem’s are actually intended for? That’s the thing I can’t get past. I was just like, sure, we’ll ignore the thing that’s an Infinity Stone’s entire fucking _domain_ and just try to make it into a power adapter instead. It’s the only logical solution.”

Loki did not move.

“What’s up?” Tony asked. “You’re not saying much.”

“I’m trying to convince myself that not conceiving of the idea is conceivable.”

“Oh. That all?”

Loki nodded. “I’ve heard of beings mastering multiple Infinity Gems at once and using them for different purposes but I haven’t heard of anyone actually _combining_ their powers together to unite them for one use before.”

Tony nodded in faux seriousness. “That helps.” He paused before sitting down. “I mean, barely, but it still makes it _slightly_ …?” Tony let out a sigh. “No. Let’s not kid ourselves. It really doesn’t, does it? You know what? I am _very_ glad there’s no one else around to witness this shitshow.” Loki opened his mouth but Tony interrupted. “If you bring up the Norns again, I swear to god…”

“Which one?” Loki asked with well calculated innocence.

“Don’t know. I like to be spontaneous. Either the god I don’t believe in or the whichever one I have to.”

Loki found a prickle of amusement in that.

“Well,” Tony said, “on the bright side, at least me spending weeks learning magic would’ve been a massive waste after all.”

Loki eyed him out of the corner of his eye. “ _That’s_ what you claim to be the bright side? Not that we might not have to transfer the power between us at all or that we could be significantly closer to solving our problem, but that you don’t have to study magic under me. You cannot claim that you would not have found some use for it in the future, that you would not wish to study it further and speculate about its applications.”

“Alright, I guess I can’t argue with that. But speed is preferable here. I don’t think either of us want to be floating through space for years. And speaking of speculations – there’s one thing that keeps bugging me about this plan. Is just scaling the time travel to just the size of New York going to be enough?”

Loki gave it a moment of thought. “I suppose that depends upon your definition of enough. Thanos will doubtless have his fleets stationed across the expanse of the universe.”

“How many does he have?”

“Dozens. Maybe more,” Loki answered without thinking.  

“That…sounds like a lot more than he brought as his plus one to Earth.”

“Yes. He’d have no reason to bring _all_ the–” Loki stopped talking as Tony gave him a questioning look. “It stands to reason that the logical course of action would be not to risk flying his entire fleet such a long way in a bid for one Infinity Stone.”

“Right,” Tony said, giving Loki another odd glance. “Yeah. So the problem is that if we reverse just New York then outside the zone where the Time Gem isn’t reaching, his armies will still be there. And if Thanos suddenly vanishes then yeah, that’s gonna cause problems for them. But we don’t know how temporary those problems are. Does Thanos have a second in command?” _The Other_ , Loki thought but did not say out loud.  “Is someone else just going to take over? Does he have a whole queue of people waiting in line who are just as into Hela as he is? We’re in the dark because we just have no way of knowing.”

That was where Tony was wrong.

It would have been so easy to have put on a show of being as oblivious of Thanos as Tony was, and for a long while, Loki was so tempted that he hadn't even considered an alternative. But Tony had proven himself able to think in different directions than Loki, to be able to invent solutions to problems Loki wasn't even aware could exist. Tony could work with his mind and metal and wires as well as Loki could work with magic and deceptions. And because of that, it was entirely possible that not disclosing such information – especially information that was so relevant to Tony's speculations – could result in more failures. 

“There are... others,” Loki said, testing the waters. “Others who are just as dedicated to the cause as he is.”

Tony didn’t so much as blink. “How many?”

“Tens. Hundreds, maybe.” It had been impossible to tell the true converts from the false ones, to know by how many they had increased in number after Loki's absense. 

“But Thanos was the first?”

“Yes.”

“So if we want to stop them forming maybe we need to go back further than New York. If Thanos hired the rest of them or bought them or whatever, then stopping Thanos isn’t going to stop his armies tearing across space.”

“His armies do not have his Infinity Stones.”

“So they’re less unstoppable. Good. But that doesn’t mean they shouldn’t be stopped. If we figure out when he got together the rest of his army and attack him _before_ then – and preferably before he gets his hands on any Infinity Gems too – then that should solve everything that happened after, right?”

“I am not certain we should formulate an entire plan based on the possibility of _if_.”

“Isn’t that what we’ve been doing this entire time? _If_ we find the Time Gem, _if_ we make time travel possible…”

Loki supposed that Tony might have had a point.

“The main problem is finding out that one specific bit of information,” Tony continued. “But guys like him leave a trail of corpses wherever they go so we’ve just got to figure out firstly where to go, and secondly how far back.”

“Twenty of your years, as an estimate.” Loki’s own voice surprised him more than it surprised Tony.

Tony’s eyes met his. “Are you sure?”

Thanos’s order had been well enough established to have formed a structure and tightly controlled system but not so much that they had numbers in thousands when Loki had been a part of it. Their numbers had increased rapidly with each of the gems Thanos had gathered.

“As sure as I can be with only an estimate.”

“Right.” Tony abruptly broke the eye contact and adjusted the angle of his seat. Loki didn’t want to think too much about what that meant, about what theories Tony might generate not about Thanos, but about him. “But it's still worth saying that if we learn where we could find him and defeat him before he gets any gems or an army then that’d solve pretty much all our problems.”

“That’s still a big if.”

Even when Loki had first fallen into Thanos’s clutches, Thanos still had an army. He still had the Soul Stone encapsulated inside of that ring. He still hadn’t revealed much about where he had come from, of his past.

Loki didn’t want to remember.

Loki had been thorough about forcing himself to forget. 

“But the trail of clues–”

“Could take years to find,” Loki interrupted. “We are working at the scale of the _universe_ , Tony.”

“Just like we were when we were looking for the Time Gem. But we found a way around that, remember?”

“I’m not going back to Mimir’s well.”

“I’m not saying we should. He didn’t sound like a reasonable guy. I mean, he still gave you knowledge of where the Time Gem was but that didn’t stop him trying to eat you.”

Loki thought that was an inadequate description of what Mimir had attempted. _Consume_ might have been more apt.

”Good. That would be madness.”

“You sure there’s no other weird magic ways of finding someone?”

“Not that I know of. Not with the scale we’re working at. And not with finding him at a specific point in the past.”

“Then maybe we’d have to take him when he’s alone. If we know where to find him and at what point in time.” Tony’s gaze flicked to Loki. “If you…" Caution did not suit Tony. "If you know where we could find him.”

So Tony _had_ guessed.

The only remaining thought that wasn’t about how terrible it was that this had to happen was the underlying relief that Tony appeared to be treating this with equal measures to how he had treated his discovery that Loki had as much of an equal dislike of space as he did.

Loki’s mouth was dry. He occupied himself with a thorough examination of the ends of his fingers.  

“He wouldn’t be far from his followers,” Loki managed to say. “And he’d still have the Soul Stone.”  _And the Mind Stone._   

“We’ve got two Infinity Stones. Two’s better than one,” Tony said with a shrug. “And if I’m able to turn the reverse-beam on the Soul Stone, that might piss him off.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taking a little break from writing as I've been needing one but I will be resuming in early 2019!


End file.
